Gemini
by Sophia Hawkins
Summary: Set in season 1. Richie's been on his own for most of his life, but an unexpected visitor proves he's not 'alone' anymore.
1. Chapter 1

Gemini

"You know," Tessa said to Duncan, "I really wish when your cousin Connor came to visit, you'd give me an advanced warning."

"He didn't give _me_ one," Duncan replied, "He just said he'll be here in about an hour. Where's Richie?"

"Oh I don't know," Tessa said, "I think he went out rollerblading."

"Hope he gets back before Connor gets here," Duncan said, and started to leave the room to get things ready for his cousin's stay.

"I just thought of something," Tessa said, causing Duncan to stop in his tracks, "Why is it we never meet any of Richie's friends?"

Duncan shrugged his shoulders, "Doesn't want us to meet them, I guess."

"Does he even have any?" Tessa asked, "He goes out roller skating, where does he go? I don't know, who does he go with? I never see anybody. Surely he has to have _some_ friends, doesn't he?"

"Well once Connor's on a plane heading back for New York, we'll see if we can find out anything from Richie," Duncan said, "In the meantime, Connor implied that he plans to stay with us for a while so I better see where we can put him."

"Where _can_ we put him?" Tessa asked herself, "Besides the couch, there's no other place around here for him to stay." Then she said, loud enough for Duncan to hear, "I just wonder about Richie. He spends most of the days here with just us, and then when he goes out I don't think he goes to see anybody."

"Unless he sees a girl to chase," Duncan told her.

"And then her father chases _him,_" Tessa said to herself, "It just can't be healthy he spends so much time alone."

"He's not alone," Duncan said, "He's got us."

Tessa raised her eyebrows and looked at him, as if to say 'my point exactly'.

"Think about it this way," Duncan said, "At least when he's here we know he's not getting into trouble."

"When _has_ he gotten into trouble since he came to live with us?" Tessa replied.

Duncan didn't answer, instead he said to her, "At least we know when he's with us, he's not doing anything the police can come after him for."

"I wonder about that too," Tessa said, "I don't think he does have any friends because if he did, wouldn't he have a partner when he was working at a thief?"

They heard the door open and Richie bellowed, "I'm home."

"Felt your ears burning, did you?" Tessa asked him.

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Tessa said, "Connor's coming to visit."

Richie took off his sunglasses, "Sir Lancelot's coming here?"

"Evidently," Tessa told him, "Duncan just got off the phone with him. He'll be here in about an hour, Richie, get your skates off and go change."

"Tess," Richie said, "The dude's almost 500 years old, I don't think my appearance is going to bother him."

"Well it's bothering me," Tessa replied, "Go on."

Richie let out a huff as he took off his roller blades and headed into the next room.

* * *

Richie came out of his room wearing a pair of jeans that miraculously didn't have any holes in them, and a blue T-shirt. "Does _this_," he said, this being the 6th change of clothes he'd put on, "Look better?"

"It'll have to do since the rest of your clothes are sprawled out on the floor of your room," Tessa said.

"I don't get it, what's the big deal about Connor coming to visit?" Richie asked.

"There's no big deal, I just like to have everything look nice when we have company," Tessa told him.

"Uh huh…and you really think he's going to care how the place looks, Tess?" Richie asked.

They heard a knock at the door and Tessa groaned, "He's here."

Duncan came down the stairs and opened the door and in stepped Connor, who was looking none the worse for wear considering he'd made a 3000 mile trip on such short notice.

"It's good to see you, Connor," Duncan said.

"Good to see you too," Connor replied, "And the rest of you."

He went over to Tessa and Richie and greeted them as well. He looked Richie up and down and commented, "Well you seem to have changed a bit since the last time I was here."

Tessa cleared her throat and said, "So what brings you here, Connor?" She tried to think of the word he'd used last time he dropped in on them, "…Hunting again?"

Connor smirked and laughed a couple of times as he said, "No, nothing quite like that. But there is a reason why I came out here."

"You mean it's not just to see me?" Duncan cynically asked.

"Please," Connor replied, "You're not that pleasant to look at."

The look on Duncan's face when Connor made that remark was nothing short of hysterical.

"No," he continued, "A while back, I met somebody, and you might say the two of us have grown on each other like a set of warts, and I thought it was only fair that you all get to meet her."

"Her?" Duncan asked.

"Well," Tessa said, "I suppose if she's a friend of yours, she's welcome here. Where is she?"

"Standing out in the street waiting, I'll get her," Connor said.

He went over to the door and stepped outside for a minute.

"Connor's got a girlfriend?" Richie asked.

"He didn't tell me about it," Duncan said, "And I'd like to think we've known each other long enough that he would."

"Come on in," Connor told his company as he reentered the building, "It's right this way."

Connor blocked the way for them to see who came in behind him, as he said, "As they say in the movies…say hello to my little friend."

He stepped out of the way and the three people saw their new visitor, and they were all shocked beyond words by what they saw. In had walked a girl who was young and looked to be 17 or 18, and she looked a lot like Richie. She was about as tall as he was, she was built about the same way, she had the same curly red hair, the same blue eyes, the same light skin, and they were even dressed the same! Clutched in her right hand was a green and black jacket, very similar to Richie's own. The two looked almost _exactly_ alike. She let her eyes roam around and look at everything and she smiled; it wasn't a friendly smile or a pleasant one but one that said she was a mischievous creature who would probably turn out to be trouble. She went over to Richie and said nothing, merely smiled at him.

"This," Connor said to his cousin and his family, "Is Richelle Ryan."


	2. Chapter 2

The three adults left the two teenagers alone in the living room to get acquainted while the others talked in private. Tessa watched through the doorway and saw Richie and Richelle as they circled around one another, each looking the other up and down, and whatever one of them did, the other did the exact same thing. It wasn't like watching a mirror image though; when Richie raised his right arm, Richelle raised her right one, when he lifted up his left foot to scratch the back of his right leg, so did she.

"Where did she come from?" Duncan asked Connor.

Connor laughed and said, "Haven't you figured that out in 400 years? When a man and a woman want to have a kid, they…"

"I know that!" Duncan replied, "I mean where did you find her?"

"In New York City."

"When?" Tessa asked.

"A couple months after I got back," he answered.

"Don't tell me," Duncan said, "She has a habit of breaking and entering too?"

"No," Connor responded, "She's a pickpocket, which is how we met."

"And she's been staying with you since?" Tessa asked him.

"That she has…she has no known family, nobody's missing her, nobody's filed any missing person reports on her. So she's been living with me for the past few months."

"Why did you bring her here?" Duncan asked his cousin.

"Because of the boy," Connor said, "There are too many similarities between them, they look alike, they act alike, they share the same name."

"You think she's related to Richie?" Tessa asked.

"Related?" Connor repeated, "I'm convinced they're twins."

"Oh come on," Duncan said, "That's impossible."

"Why?" Connor wanted to know.

Duncan was left dumbstruck and speechless for a few seconds before he said, "If Richie had a sister, we would've known."

"Oh yeah you would've known, like you know who his real mother is?" Connor asked, "All you were able to find out is that the woman he lived with when he was four was his foster mother."

"Did Richelle have a foster family too?" Tessa thought to ask.

"Long time ago," Connor answered, "She ran away one night and nobody's missed her since."

Tessa went back to the doorway and looked out again. "Look at them, Duncan," she said, watching the two continue to mimic each other's movements completely, "There has to be a connection between them."

"Maybe," Duncan replied as he watched them, "But I don't know."

* * *

"So you live with Connor?" Richie asked.

"Yeah," Richelle answered, speaking for the first time since her arrival, "You live with these people?"

"Yeah."

"Well apparently neither one of us lucked out," she said as she grabbed her jacket with both hands and felt through the pockets.

Richie turned around and looked to the doorway leading to the kitchen where Connor and Tessa and Duncan were; he didn't see them and he couldn't hear them talking. He felt Richelle poke him in the shoulder, and turning around, he saw her holding a plastic bag of red licorice she'd pulled out of her pocket.

"Want some licorice?"

"No thanks."

"Okay," she put it back in a pocket inside her jacket, "So where do they put you around here? You sleep on the couch, or do they put you on the floor?"

"I have my own room," Richie answered.

"Me too, where's yours?" Richelle asked.

"Come on, I'll show you."

They disappeared out of the living room and Richie opened the door to his bedroom and the two of them headed in.

"Not a bad looking place," Richelle noted, "My room's bigger than this though…" she looked around at all the stuff discarded all over the floor, "Or maybe mine just doesn't have as much junk lying around."

Richie rolled his eyes at her comment.

Richelle dug around through her jacket again and pulled out a pinkish yellow apple, "Want an apple?"

"No thanks," Richie replied, "What all do you keep in that thing?"

"I'm a firm believer in carry-on luggage," she told him, "Oh crap, that reminds me, I left my bags outside."

"Where?"

"On my bike."

"Your what?" Richie asked.

"You want to see it?" she asked, "…is there a way we can get out of here without those three vultures watching us?"

* * *

"Holy crap," Richie said when they stepped outside and he saw the black 1987 Honda parked next to Connor's car.

"Like it?" Richelle asked.

"Where'd you get it?" Richie asked.

"Connor got it for me…he figured it was safer than letting me borrow his car," she explained, and added, "Next one I get's going to be a Harley."

"Neat."

"Think so?" she said, "Hop on and I'll show you what it does."

"Can't right now," Richie told her, "We better get back up there or they're going to start looking for us."

Richelle grabbed two large duffle bags off the seat of the bike and followed Richie back into the store.

"This sure is an ugly place they got," Richelle said, "What's their business?"

"Antiques," Richie answered.

She snorted and responded, "Antique…that's another word for dump."

"Doesn't Connor have antiques?" Richie asked her.

"Sure but they're not piss poor ugly like the junk these guys are trying to pass off on some sucker," Richelle said, and stopped put down her bags and pick up one of the display pieces, "This urn for example."

"Put that down," Richie told her, "That's not an urn, it's a 16th century vase and it's expensive."

"One of a kind too I suppose, right?" Richelle asked.

"Probably."

She grabbed it with both hands and raised them over her head as though she meant to smash the vase on the floor, drawing a panicked reaction from Richie; but she just chuckled and put it back on the table it was on. She picked up her bags again and followed Richie back upstairs, and they returned just as the three adults came into the living room.

"Well Richelle," Connor said, "Looks like we're going to be staying here for a while. I don't think I introduced you earlier…this is my cousin, Duncan MacLeod."

"Hello," Duncan said.

Richelle didn't respond.

"And this is his girlfriend, Tess Noel," Connor added.

"How do you do?"

Richelle said nothing and just shrugged her shoulders in response.

Well this was becoming very awkward for all of them.

"Uh," Duncan cleared his throat, "Richelle…why don't you…why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?"

"There's not much to tell, I've been living with your cousin for four months because his was the only wallet I picked from a pocket that came with its owner attached to it," she said.

"Well…what do you do in New York?"

"What does any person _do_?" she asked, "I live."

"Do you have any friends in New York?" Tessa asked.

"Oh yeah I got a few friends," Richelle answered, "They call me torpedo."

Tessa's eyes about bugged out when she heard that. "Torpedo? Why do they call you that?"

Richelle walked over to Tessa and stuck her chest out, showing that the Frenchwoman was not as well endowed as she was.

"Oh they call me that for some pretty obvious reasons," Richelle said, "How about you, you ever consider trying a push-up bra?" She took another step towards Tessa and looked down her blouse, "Or a bra at all? I sincerely hope you don't go out in public like that…a fine thing that'd be, some guy comes up from behind, tries to cut the strap off your purse, maybe cuts too far, your blouse comes off and ooh you'd be quite a sight standing in the middle of the street like that, wouldn't you?"

"Richelle!" Connor said in a warning tone, and she seemed to back off, "I'm sorry, Tessa…Richelle has a tendency to open her fat mouth and say the first thing that comes to mind."

"Well she would," Richelle insisted.

Connor grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and pulled her towards him.

"Say you're sorry," he told her.

"I'm sorry," she said in a flat tone.

He smacked her and said, "Sound sincere when you do it."

"I'm sorry!" she replied in a sarcastic tone.

Duncan rolled his eyes and said, more to himself than the others, "I can tell this is going to be a very long visit."

* * *

That night the five of them were gathered around the table, attempting to have a nice conversation over a dinner of spaghetti and dinner rolls. Duncan and Tessa were seated beside each other, Connor was seated across from them, Richie sat next to Connor, and Richelle had been seated in between Duncan and Connor; she stood up and took the chair with her and moved in between Connor and Richie, forcing Connor to move closer to his cousin.

"Well," he said, "This isn't exactly the most pleasant view to have while eating, but it'll do."

Tessa was still of the mind that there was some connection between Richie and Richelle, and decided to take her guess for all it was worth.

"So Richelle," Tessa said, "What do you like to do for fun in New York?"

"I like riding around on my motorcycle," she answered.

"Oh, you have a motorcycle, did you hear that, Duncan?" Tessa asked.

"I heard, I heard," Duncan dryly answered as he picked at his food and looked down at his plate, "So," he said to Richelle, "Do you go to school in New York?"

"Why should I?" she asked.

"Oh, just wondering."

She looked at Richie and asked him, "Do you go to school?"

"No," Richie answered, "I work here."

"For what, room and board?"

"No," Duncan answered, "He helps with the customers, he cleans up the shop, and he's paid for it."

"And he still has to live here at the end of the day?" she asked, "Poor sap."

Under the table, Connor stomped on her foot and everybody heard it, and they heard her yell. Richie moved his chair closer to Tessa, who said to him, "Those two are like watching a Punch and Judy show."

* * *

After dinner, while Tessa cleared the table, Richelle suggested to Richie they go out and go for a ride on her bike. Richie hesitated in answering and looked to Duncan who just nodded his head and told them to go along. They were out the door and gone, just like that; leaving the three adults to talk amongst themselves.

"Well I know it's only been about an hour," Connor said, "But what do you guys think of her so far?"

"Well…" Tessa said, "She's very…she's a real…"

"She's a pain in the ass, Connor," Duncan said, "She's rude beyond words and doesn't seem to consider anybody else's opinion as being of any importance."

"Egads, who does she think she is, a teenager?" Connor asked, "Don't tell me Richie never mouths off."

"Not like that," Duncan said.

"Well, it's a geographical difference is all, Richie grew up here, Richelle grew up in New York," Connor told his cousin.

"I'm convinced," Tessa told the men as she joined them in the living room, "She has to be related to Richie, it's just too much of a coincidence."

"Well we don't know that for fact," Duncan said.

"We can find out, can't we?" Tessa asked, "Police compare people's DNA for crimes, can't we take them to somebody who does that?"

"It wouldn't work, Tessa," Connor said, "DNA is a science but it's not an exact science. If we're lucky, maybe the test would find an 80% genetic match in them…but 80% is still a long shot, it means their DNA is compatible with millions of other people's as well."

"There has to be _some_ way we can find out," Tessa said, "We couldn't find out who Richie's parents were because of confidentiality laws with the orphanage…what about a birth certificate? It would have to say who his mother was on the birth certificate."

"If he was born in a hospital," Connor said, "He might've been born at home, or in a car, or he might've just been thrown away."

"What about Richelle? Does she have a birth certificate?" Tessa asked.

"Yeah," Connor answered, "But I don't think it's a real one and it wouldn't matter much because the woman listed as her mother died when she was eight years old, and there was no record of her being born with a twin."

"But it has to be true," Tessa said to them, "It just _has_ to be…they look almost exactly alike, they have the same names, they both like the same things. It can't just be a coincidence…can it?"


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Richie and Richelle returned, it was late and everybody was ready to get settled in for the night.

"What are we going to do about the sleeping arrangements?" Tessa asked Duncan, "If Connor's going to sleep on the couch, where are we going to put Richelle?"

"That's no problem," she insisted, "Richie's got a nice big bed, I'll just stay with him in his room."

Duncan laughed a couple of times and blurted out, "No you won't."

"Why? What's the matter, is his chastity belt in the shop?" Richelle asked, "It's a win/win situation, everybody has a place to sleep and nobody gets stuck on the floor like an old dog."

Duncan looked to his cousin, "Connor…"

"Oh no," Connor shook his head, "I'm not sharing a bed with Richie…for crying out loud, Duncan, we're all family here, let them…they have a lot to catch up on."

"Are you sure you don't mind the couch, though?"

"I've spent the last three nights sleeping on flat mattresses in cheap motels that smell like there was a corpse rotting in them…after that, this will be fine," Connor insisted.

"Well that settles it," Richelle said as she picked up her bags and headed for Richie's room, "Come on, Richie…goodnight Connor!"

"Goodnight, Richelle," he replied.

"Goodnight Tessa," Richelle said, "Goodnight MacDuff."

Duncan blinked and turned to Tessa, "What did she call me?"

"I didn't hear a thing," Connor said.

"Goodnight Mac," Richie said, "Goodnight Tess, goodnight Connor."

"Goodnight John Boy," Connor replied, "On that note I think I'm going to retire too, I've had a very long and tiring day."

"We'll see you in the morning, Connor," Tessa said.

"I count on it."

* * *

"Connor thinks we might be related," Richie said to Richelle that night in his room, "Do you think he's right?"

"Well if we're not, we ought to be," she said, "We look too much like each other."

She got up from where she sat on the bed and went over to the window and looked out into the night. "What time does the sun come up?"

"I don't know," Richie answered, "It's always up before I am."

"You sleep in much?" Richelle asked.

"When I can."

"Do you think we could get out of here without them catching us?" she asked as she walked away from the window.

"Doubt it," Richie answered.

"Well, it's about midnight now…sun should be up in six hours, we can get out of here then," she said, "I'm anxious to see if there's anything good about this town."

"It's not all bad," Richie told her.

"How would you know? You've been here your whole life, you don't know what's good," Richelle said.

"Well what's so good about New York?" Richie asked.

"Hell if I know," she replied, "But it's still better than Seacouver."

"What's it like living with Connor?" Richie asked.

"He's alright," Richelle answered as they sat on the bed again.

Richie waited a few seconds before adding, "How much do you know about Connor?"

She turned and looked at him as she said, "I know he's a headhunter, same as the guy you're living with."

Richie hadn't anticipated that. "And you're still cool with staying with the guy?"

"He's already explained to me about the people he kills, and what they're like, and I'm not one of them," she explained, "So it doesn't bother me what he does. You should come back to New York with us, Connor's pretty cool, you'd like him."

"Think so?"

She nodded. "Does Duncan keep any guns around here?"

"Hell no!"

"Connor's got some, he's let me shoot them, and I'm pretty good at it," she said, "I bet he'd let you try it sometime."

Richie laughed nervously and commented, "I wonder why he'd keep guns in the house with you living there."

The two sat in silence for a while, occasionally looking at each other and then looking elsewhere, neither saying what they were really thinking.

"Do you think," Richie finally broke the silence, "Do you really think we are…brother and sister?"

"I don't know," she replied.

"When's your birthday?"

"I turned 18 last September."

"What day?" Richie asked.

"The 13th."

"…That's my birthday too," he said.

"What's your blood type?" Richelle asked.

"A-positive."

"Me too."

"But I just can't believe that we were born together, and then split up, and I stayed here and you got carted off to New York, that doesn't make any kind of sense," Richie said.

"Richie," Richelle replied, "We're living with two men who don't die and they cut people's heads off…I think logic went out the window a long time ago."

He looked at her, "Then you really think we're twins?"

"I don't know," she said, "But it's not impossible apparently."

They laid down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

"So what do we do now?" Richie asked.

"I'm not tired," Richelle told him.

"Me either," he responded.

"Want to watch TV?" she asked.

"Nothing good on at this time," Richie answered.

"Want to listen to some music?" she asked.

"It'd wake everybody up and it'd piss off Mac," Richie said.

"…Yeah, I almost forgot about him," she said, "Well, I reckon we're just going to have to make our own fun for the night."

Richie pulled the upper half of his body up so he could look over at her as he asked, "You got anything in mind?"

Richelle looked across the room and seemed to notice for the first time, the set of drums in the room, "Are those yours?"

Richie looked to where she pointed and answered, "Yeah, I got them out of somebody's truck that was heading to the junkyard."

"You play?" Richelle asked.

* * *

Duncan had fallen asleep about an hour ago and was in the middle of a dream when he heard a loud ruckus that about burst his eardrums. The first thing that came to mind in the split second before he opened his eyes, enemy gunfire, he was back in World War II. He shot up in bed and realized that it was some 50 years later than that, and he identified the noise as rapid drumming.

"What's that noise?" Tessa asked as she slowly awoke.

"It's Richie," Duncan said as he got up and put on his robe, "He's either going to go to sleep or I'm going to put him to sleep for a week."

Tessa lay back down and commented, "Have to admit, it sounds like he's improving."

Duncan crossed through the hall and before he reached Richie's door, could see the outline of light showing through the crack. He opened the door and looked to the wall where Richie's drums were kept and saw Richie, but he wasn't playing them. He just stood alongside the drum set and it was Richelle behind the bass drum beating on them. When the two teenagers saw him, the noise came to a sudden stop.

Duncan tried to compose himself as he thought about what he was going to say. If it had just been Richie, he would've yelled at him…but it was Richelle, a guest, and what more a guest that Connor had brought, so the same rules didn't apply.

"Richelle," he said, trying to sound civil, "It's late."

"Yeah but I'm a night person and if I'm going to be up, I'm going to keep Richie up too," she told him.

"Well everybody else is trying to sleep so can you find something quieter to do?" Duncan asked, near the end of his rope.

"Sure," they replied.

"Thank you," Duncan dryly said, and dragged his feet like a zombie as he headed out of the room.

"What was it?" Tessa asked when Duncan returned to their bedroom.

"Nothing…Richie's little friend just decided to take his drum set on a test drive," Duncan replied as he closed the door and untied his robe, "I told them to knock it off…maybe now we can get some sleep."

"That would be nice."

Duncan crawled back into bed and pulled the covers up behind him and his eyes were closed before his head even met with the pillow.

He didn't know how long he'd slept for but the next thing he was aware of, another noise woke him up, this one sounding like a bowling ball knocking down all 10 pins at once.

"What the hell was that?" he said as he shot up in bed.

It wasn't the noise, but rather his question that had awoken Tessa this time. She looked at the clock on the nightstand which showed it was 2:15 in the morning.

Duncan left their room and headed over to Richie's again and entered the room again without knocking. He saw Richie and Richelle pinned against the wall, him with his hands on her throat and she trying to grab the back of his shirt to throw him against the wall.

"What the hell is going on in here?" he asked.

Richie turned at the sound of Duncan's voice and Richelle took that opportunity to throw her weight against him, knocking them both onto the floor in a very awkward position.

"Hi, Mac," Richie said, looking up at the older man.

"What is going on _this time_?" Duncan asked in a tired, semi-calm voice.

"Oh…nothing," they both answered.

"Uh huh…well knock it off," Duncan told them, "It's too late in the night to be playing professional wrestling."

As they got up, he left the room and headed back to bed.

"I knew it was a bad idea to put those two in the same room," he told Tessa, "At this rate they're going to tear down the house before morning."

"As loud as they are," she said to him, "I wonder why Connor hasn't been in to shut them up."

"Maybe he has," Duncan replied, "Though, he seems to be able to control Richelle…he must not have then because otherwise they would've shut up by now."

* * *

"He's a pretty excitable guy your warden, isn't he?" Richelle asked as they sat down on his bed again.

"Why do you call him that?" Richie asked.

"Because he's like Connor, though the more suiting term would be parole officer, but warden sounds better…every day I gotta check in with Connor, and if he thinks I'm doing alright, I can go on with my day, just like a P.O." Richelle said, "Duncan's very excitable, isn't he?"

"Isn't Connor?" Richie asked.

"Oh no," she shook her head, "He says that after all the shit he's gone through, nothing can excite him anymore, he's a real laid back kind of guy."

Richie half smiled and said, "I wish Mac was."

"Then he is excitable," Richelle said.

"Sometimes."

"Hmmm…" she sat back and thought for a while before asking, "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Oh, I like to go rollerblading," he said, "And sometimes I go out on my bike."

"You have a motorcycle too?" she asked.

"Sort of," he said, "It's more of a dirt bike."

"But I didn't see any dirt around to ride on, and if you're driving on a paved road that's illegal, does your warden know that?" Richelle asked, "Never mind…what else?"

Richie shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, that's about it."

"Pathetic," Richelle said, shaking her head somberly, "18 years old and already you've expired."

"And what do you do all day?" Richie asked her.

"Oh I do lots of things," she insisted, and laughed as she recalled, "A couple of times I went to this…performance theatre, they did one show where three criminals are closing in on a blind woman, and she catches on to who they are and smashes all the lights in her apartment so they can't see. Just WHACK WHACK WHACK, leave them in the dark like she is. You ever see that?"

"No."

"Oh it was good, she threw some stuff in one guy's face to really make him blind, and she killed him. Then I saw another one where these 10 people were marching up and down the stage dressed like a bunch of loons, talking about God and the Gospel. They had one guy play Jesus and he said…"

The door opened again and Duncan stepped into the room looking like he'd hit the ceiling. "What's going on in here now?"

"You're just in time," Richelle said as she stood up and went over to Duncan, "As I was saying, Richie, he said 'what if your brother sues you? Better settle with him quickly, or he'll turn you over to the judge," she shoved Duncan, "And the judge to the constable," then she bopped him on the head, "And you'll land in jail!" and she pushed him with so much force that he fell back and tumbled over Richie's drum set, bringing the whole thing down with him.

Both teenagers were trying their hardest not to laugh, and Richelle said in as nonchalant a tone as she could, "Mr. MacLeod, will you be quiet please? Don't you know people are trying to sleep?"

Duncan felt his lip had split and was sure he had blood running down his nose. He got up and strode over towards them and in two steps had gotten halfway across the room and was on top of them.

"I've just about had it with you," Duncan told her.

"Fine, you want to complain about me? Go speak to my warden about it," Richelle said, "He's in on the couch."

No. As tempted as Duncan was to throw her out of the house and be rid of her, he wasn't about to disturb Connor in the middle of the night because of it. It could wait until morning, he decided…it was only a few hours off. His left hand was trembling and it itched to grab her throat and squeeze and squeeze until she turned blue, and the kids must have sensed the same thing because they each took a large step back away from him.

"I don't want to hear another word out of either one of you for the rest of the night!" Duncan told them.

They said nothing and he thought he was finally going to have a peaceful night. He left the room and pulled the door shut behind him, but no sooner had he taken two steps down the hall, he heard them again. Only, true to their 'word', they weren't talking…one of them was screaming like a monkey and the other was making some kind of waka-waka bird call.

He could've just broken down the door and strangled them both. But as late as it was, it would've been more trouble than it was worth, so he forgot it and went back to his own bedroom, regardless of the noise.

Richie and Richelle had spent all night talking and roughhousing and playing and comparing their likes and dislikes, neither had figured they'd ever get to bed. But Richelle opened her eyes and saw the sunlight starting to come in through the window, it was morning, and she was on the right side of the bed, and Richie was rolled on his side over on the left. She sat up and pushed her hand deep into Richie's ribs as she tried to shake him awake, but he wasn't moving.

"Richie…Richie…" she turned and saw an alarm clock on the nightstand and she picked it up and wound it up. First she wound up the ringer so it would go off at full force, then she wound the knob moving the alarm time hand to the current time, and she pulled back the lever which released the little hammer which pounded the two big bells.

Richie awoke with a jolt and a yelp and he about jumped out of the bed completely. Richelle laughed as she pushed the lever back into place, paralyzing the clock's hammer.

"What's going on?" Richie asked as he turned to her, his eyes wide and tired.

"It's eight o' clock in the morning, Richie," she told him, "Time to get up and get out of here."

"Good idea," he replied.

* * *

Tessa and Duncan stumbled into the kitchen, neither dressed yet and both looking like they were a creation piece of Dr. Frankenstein's. Connor was already in the kitchen and he saw them both and said, "Well you two look like hell this morning, what happened, did the kids keep you up all night?"

Duncan's eyes pried themselves open wide at his cousin, staring at him in disbelief. Tessa asked him, "You mean they didn't wake you up?"

"Of course not," Connor replied, "I sleep like a rock, always have."

"Even with that thing living with you now?" Duncan asked.

Connor laughed at his cousin and remarked, "She doesn't bother me…there's nothing she can do that I haven't seen before. You're old enough to know not to let them get under your skin so much. Besides, she doesn't spend too many nights at my house."

"Lucky you," Duncan commented.

"Where does she go?" Tessa asked.

"She's 18, she can do what she wants, and she does, all I demand of her is that she check in with me in the morning so I know everything's alright." He saw the confused looks on both of their faces, "What, you don't do that with Richie?"

"No," Duncan replied.

"And why not?" Connor asked.

Duncan rolled his eyes and turned just in time to see, as Tessa and Connor also saw, Richie and Richelle heading for the door, trying to sneak out.


	4. Chapter 4

"And where do you think you're going?" Duncan asked them, just as they reached the door.

"Damn," Richie grumbled under his breath.

"So close," Richelle added.

"I asked you a question," Duncan said, "_Where _do you think you're going this early in the morning?" He wanted to add 'after keeping us up all night?', but thought better of it.

They turned around and Richelle said to Duncan, "I'm taking Richie out and he's going to show me the sights."

Tessa closed her tired eyes for a second and when she opened them again, she asked, "Didn't he do that last night?"

"Well yeah but there's more to see in the daytime," Richie said.

"Not so fast," Duncan said as he walked up to both of them.

"What?"

"Neither one of you is going anywhere just yet," he told them.

"And why not?" Richelle asked.

"Because, Richie has to stay here today," Duncan said, "The upstairs _and_ downstairs need to be cleaned up."

"I agree," she said, "I could see that when I came in yesterday, the place looks like a bunch of gypsies live here. You're a regular slob, MacLeod, can't you ever pick up after your own self?"

Duncan growled at her and swung his arm at them both; they jumped back and Richelle got in front of Richie.

"Hold on there, MacLeod," she said, "I seriously doubt Richie's responsible for those little shrapnel bits all over the first floor, and I seriously doubt he's responsible either for all those empty wine bottles sticking out of the trash can, so why is it his responsibility?"

"Because that's his job," Duncan said, "I run the store, Tessa makes her sculptures…"

"And Richie just cleans up all your messes," Richelle said, "Is that it?"

"Everybody has their own jobs to do around here," Duncan told her.

"Yeah, and I for one happen to know that you don't open the shop today, so what else is prohibiting you from sweeping up the nails downstairs?" Richelle asked.

Duncan was still half asleep after being kept up all night by these two nuts, he couldn't think straight and he realized what he was doing, "I'm arguing with an idiot here."

"And you're still losing," Richelle told him, "We'll split the difference…Richie will clean up this shack today and I'll help him, that way we can get out of here sooner. Because I didn't come 3000 miles just to stay cooped up in this cuckoo's nest all day staring at your sourpuss."

Hmmmm, Duncan felt he'd been in this position before, and he turned to his clansman and said, "You taught her that, didn't you?"

"Well," Connor replied, "It's true."

* * *

"I don't care what you say," Richelle said to Richie as they headed downstairs, "They don't pay you enough to do this crap."

"Don't you do this at Connor's place?" Richie asked.

"Hell no, he has a woman that comes in twice a week and cleans up the place," she answered.

"Okay," Richie said as they entered the front room, "How do we want to do this?"

"Ehh, you sweep up the workshop, I'll scrub the floor in here," Richelle told him.

"Okay."

Meanwhile upstairs, Duncan, Tessa and Connor were gathered around the living room engaging in another 'conversation'.

"Say that one more time, Duncan MacLeod, and I'm going to punch your lights out," Connor told him, "_Again_."

"What the hell do you even know about this kid?" Duncan asked.

"What the hell do you know about Richie?" Connor asked.

"Enough."

"Because he never talks back to you, because he never dares defy you, because he would never dream of keeping you up all night?" Connor asked.

"There's something about her that I don't like," Duncan told him.

"That's fine!" Connor remarked, "I never said you _had_ to like her. And I sure as hell never told her she had to like you either. I didn't bring her out here to please you, I brought her out here so she could meet Richie, so she might get acquainted with her family."

"That girl is not Richie's family, Connor!" Duncan insisted, "She can't be!"

"Why not?" his cousin wanted to know.

Duncan sputtered with the words he was trying to get out, concluding with, "Her birth certificate."

"What about it?"

"It doesn't say anything about her mother having another child at that time."

"Birth certificates can be faked…the only reason she has that thing is so she could get a driver's license for her motorcycle," Connor said, "You've never seen Richie's birth certificate, you have no idea what it says."

"I know it wouldn't say he was born with a twin sister," Duncan said.

"How can you be so sure?" Connor asked, "Twins can be separated, MacLeod, one grows up in one place, the other grows up somewhere else, but they're still the same. They show the same behavior, they have the same traits, they have their own differences but they still act like each other whether they grow up together or not. How else can you explain those two being the way they are?"

"I don't know," Duncan replied, "But I'm going out for a while and I'm going to ask around."

"Ask around where? Who're you going to ask? And what are you even going to ask them?" Connor screamed at his cousin, who descended to the stairway, "What do you think you're going to find out!?"

* * *

While Richie swept up the nails and debris in Tessa's workshop, Richelle had filled a bucket with hot water and put in it an old rag and a bar of soap. She splashed the water onto the hard floor, soaped up the rag and tossed the bar of soap behind her somewhere, hoping against all hope that that damn fool Duncan MacLeod would slip on it and break his neck.

She scrubbed the floor until every square inch of it was clean, then she went to see how Richie was holding up in the other room. After she had disappeared out of the room, Duncan came down the stairs, and was not really paying attention to his surroundings. His foot met with the wet cake of soap and he felt his whole body jerk backwards as he fell flat on his back and found himself looking up at the ceiling.

The noise brought both teenagers running back into the room and they were both surprised at the sight before them, though both for different reasons.

"Mac, are you okay?" Richie asked.

Duncan groaned as he started to get up, and he found what caused him to trip. He looked up at the both of them and couldn't tell which one had done it.

"Alright," he said, "Who's responsible for this?"

Just as Richie opened his mouth to ask what he meant, Richelle answered, "You are."

"WHAT!?" Duncan about exploded.

"Well it's your own fault," Richelle said, "If we didn't have to be stuck here cleaning the place, it never would've happened."

Duncan felt his shoulders hunch up on him and he felt his hands curling to strangle her, but he refrained, saying only to her, "The more I'm around you, the less I like having you in my house."

"Well hot damn!" Richelle said, "That makes two of us."

Duncan grunted and growled and went around them and headed for the door. Richelle continued hollering at him, "Hey where do you think you're going? You've made this whole mess you need to clean up! What's the matter with you, were you born in a barn or something!?"

She stopped her grandstanding when the door slammed behind Duncan, she and Richie both laughed and he said, "I think you were a little hard on him."

"So what? He deserved it, tramping through here," she hollered for MacLeod to hear her halfway down the block, "And messing up my nice clean floor!"

"Okay," she said to Richie in her normal tone, "He's gone…Connor _will_ cover for us if we get the hell out of here."

"I don't think we should," Richie told her.

"It's like I told you last night, Richie, nothing _really_ bad can happen to us while we're here because Connor's here, and he's the _only_ one who has the right to smack me around, and right now he happens to be on vacation from that. So no matter what we do, if things ever get too hairy, we just go find Connor and the rest will take care of itself."

"Yeah," Richie said, "But I still think we should get some more work done here before we haul ass."

She looked at him and said, "They really got to you, didn't they?"

* * *

"Alright, Tess," Richie said to Tessa an hour later, "We've cleaned the floors, we did the dishes, the bathroom's been scrubbed about to oblivion, and we hauled the trash out of here, can we get the hell out of here now?"

Tessa turned sideways and looked at Connor, who didn't offer her any suggestions. She turned back to them and said, "I don't see why not."

"Alright!"

"Just…" she tried to think of something to say as they rushed to the door, "Be careful."

"Sure thing, Tess," Richie said, and they were gone.

Tessa and Connor heard their booming footsteps jumping down the stairs, and then all was quiet.

"Well," she said, "I think that went well."

"They're not going to be mad at you if that's what you're worried about," Connor told her, "It's Duncan they hate, and they don't really hate him, Richie practically idolizes him."

"And what about Richelle?" Tessa asked.

"Richelle does not respect authority figures and that's what Duncan is making it his job to be," Connor said, "To answer your question, yes, she _does_ hate him."

Tessa rolled her eyes and swayed her head to the side when she heard that.

"She hates him like any teenager hates any authoritative father," Connor said, "It's something they all go through, it passes."

"And what if it doesn't?" Tessa asked.

"Well then," Connor told her, "We'll just have to do something about the both of them."

"She and Richie?"

"No, she and Duncan. I'll admit if this keeps up she's going to have to learn to shut her mouth about some things, but she's my ward and I'm a guest here and Duncan ought to know by now it's _rude_ telling guests what to do with their lives and ordering them around like dogs."

"I just don't get it, Connor," Tessa said, "You said Richie would need watching, so we took him in…whatever possessed you to take in that girl?"

"I remembered Richie," he answered, "That's what I saw every time I looked at her. What he is, what it is that runs through his blood, it runs through hers as well, I can tell."

"Duncan doesn't think so," Tessa replied.

"I trained him to know his Immortality, I never worked with him on his intelligence," Connor said, "Maybe it's my fault, but hell if I'm going to feel guilty about it 300 years later."

* * *

"You know, Richie," Richelle said as they left the soda fountain with a couple of drinks, "Connor says if this works out, you could come to New York with us. I think you'll like it there."

"Think so?"

"Yeah, we go to Madison Square Garden a lot, we see the basketball games, the circus, the wrestling," she said, "We have a lot of fun."

"Sounds like it," Richie said, "Next question, do you really think Connor would want me there?"

"What, you mean would he like you?"

"Something like that."

"Of course he does, he wouldn't have planned this if he didn't," she said.

"Hmm, true."

"You know, Richie," Richelle said to him as they sat down on the curb and sucked their drinks, "Connor's been trying to prepare me for meeting you guys, for about three weeks now. And even if I didn't know Connor was older than Duncan, I would still know."

"How?" Richie asked.

"His superiority shows, he's smarter, he shows more common sense, and he's the only one with any damn idea of what he's doing."

"Maybe but obviously he doesn't have too much of one," Richie replied, "Otherwise he wouldn't have gotten stuck with you."

Richelle peeled the plastic lid off her drink and shucked it at Richie, the ice, soda and syrup just narrowly missing him. Richie ignored her and continued sucking his drink up through the straw like a vacuum cleaner.

"So what do people do around here for excitement?" Richelle asked him, "Sit around and watch the cars rust or something?"

"Oh there's all sorts of things to do around here," Richie told her, "I think there's going to be a baseball game later today. You like baseball?"

"Baseball, yes," Richelle answered, "Not football though, I hate football."

"How come?"

"Too many damn rules, just like chess, I hate that game too," she said.

"Hmm," Richie bit his straw, "Well, there's another area where you and Mac have nothing in common."

She turned her head to the side and looked at him, "I should hope I didn't." She chucked her cup into the street and said, "Well, what're we going to do now?"

* * *

Duncan returned to the shop, scratching his head and wondering just what the hell he was going to do next. He had stopped in at the police station and inquired if there had been any records for a Richelle Ryan in the area. They had nothing by that name, only by Richie's…the police had suggested if he could get something with her prints on it, they could run them through the system and see if she could be identified.

From the moment he'd first seen Richelle, he couldn't deny there was a resemblance, but he flat out refused to believe that she could be in any way related to Richie. It just couldn't be possible. Could it? No, no, he didn't believe it, he _refused_ to believe it. He went in and saw Tessa and Connor in the middle of her workshop.

"What's going on in here?" he asked.

"Nothing," Connor answered a bit too quickly.

Tessa asked him, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No," he answered, defeat present in his voice, "Are _they_ back yet?"

"No, Richie and Richelle," Tessa enunciated every syllable of their names as though making a point out of it, "Are not back yet, why?"

"…No reason," he said as he turned around and headed back the way he'd come.

Connor looked at Duncan's back, and then to Tessa and said, "Well, I don't believe that, do you?"

"Nooo," Tessa replied, and said to Duncan, "Why is it so important that you disprove this?"

"I have my reasons," Duncan said.

Connor looked at Tessa and said, loud enough for his cousin to hear, "You're right, he never tells you anything, does he?"

"Nooo, not ever."

"Uh huh, I could see how that could become annoying after a while," Connor said.

"Yes, very much so," Tessa responded.

* * *

"We're back!" Richie announced about an hour later.

"Just in time," Tessa said as they entered the kitchen, "You almost missed lunch."

"Well we would've been here sooner," he explained, "Except Richelle stopped at the market to pick up a few things."

They put several bags of groceries on the table and sorted through everything.

"I still don't know," Richie said as he took out two large bunches of bananas, "Why you had to get so many of these things."

"I happen to have a potassium deficiency," she told him, "I can become very anemic if I don't eat them."

"Don't they give you pills for that?" Richie asked.

"Sure, if you want to spend your whole life taking them," she said and shook her head, "I don't."

"Isn't that dangerous?" he asked her.

"I've made it this far without anything going wrong," she said, "Besides, it's my life, nobody's going to care if I up and die."

Richie came very close to saying, "That makes two of us". He didn't, instead he turned to Tessa and asked, "Where's Connor?"

"Oh he's around somewhere," she answered.

Richelle picked up an orange from the fruit bowl on the table and started taking the rind off of it as she said, "Well, I'm guessing he hasn't gone too far," and added under her breath, "Now if somebody else could just get lost…"

"Well," Duncan said as he entered the kitchen, "You're back."

"Hey Mac," Richie said, "How's it going?"

"About as usual," he replied, "Where were you?"

"Out," Richelle said, "Next question."

"I was talking to Richie," Duncan told her, "If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it."

He turned his back to her and started to leave the room. Richelle hoisted up her orange and threw it at him.

SPLAT!

Tessa, Richie and Richelle were frozen by shock and amusement as the orange hit Duncan in the back and exploded upon contact. Duncan stopped in his tracks and slowly turned his head, glaring daggers at the person who threw it.

Richelle turned to Tessa and said, "What's the matter with you, lady? Don't you ever buy your fruit when it's fresh?"

Duncan growled and lunged at Richelle. She ran past him and out of the kitchen with him on her tail.

"Connor!"

Richelle saw Connor and ran behind him and grabbed hold of the back of his shirt. She was positioned behind him where Duncan couldn't get to her.

"What is this all about?" Connor calmly asked his cousin.

"Look what she did!" Duncan turned around and showed Connor his back.

"Okay, I give up," Connor said, "What did she do?"

"She threw an orange at me!"

"And it did that?" Connor asked, "Why don't you buy them when they're fresh?"

Duncan's jaw dropped. "Connor!"

"Go change your shirt and quit making everything into a major crisis, cousin," Connor told him.

* * *

"I don't care what you said about Connor," Richie told Richelle later that afternoon, "Mac's going to tear you apart if you don't watch it."

"Come on, Richie, it was funny, admit it," she said as she took a large swig from her soda can.

"…Yeah," Richie admitted hesitantly, "It was funny, but that's beside the point."

"Look, Richie, I didn't come out here to play nice for the guy…Connor told me to act natural when I got here…that's what I'm doing, that's not my fault," Richelle told him.

The door opened and Duncan and Connor entered the room.

"Come on you two," Connor said to them.

"Where're we going?" Richie asked.

"That's for me to know," Connor replied, "Come on, get in the car."

Richelle swallowed the rest of her soda and set the can down, "Are we coming back?"

"Maybe," he said, "Come on, get your jackets on."

Richie went into his room and brought out their jackets and their wallets and they went with Connor, leaving the loft and soon the whole store, leaving Duncan alone.

He saw the can resting on the table undisturbed and he got an idea. He picked up a pencil and stuck it down the open mouth of the can and picked it up. The police ought to be able to get some prints off of this and confirm Richelle's real identity, Duncan thought. He'd find out soon enough who she _really_ was and what her real motive was for being here.


	5. Chapter 5

That night, Duncan and Tessa were trying again unsuccessfully to get some sleep. Connor had taken the kids out earlier that day and taken them to a store and got them what he had called 'a couple of harmless games to keep them quiet tonight'. Ha! Duncan listened to the mindless rattling of all those dice again and again and again. Why oh why he wondered, did Connor have to agree to buy those damn kids Yahtzee?

Duncan turned on his side and pulled the pillow over his ears but that didn't do much good to drown out the noise.

"We're never going to be able to sleep this way," he finally said.

"Well, Duncan, they have to wear out some time," Tessa told him, "They can't go on like this all night."

"Ha!"

"What time is it, anyway?" she asked.

He looked at the clock and told her, "Quarter to two, we've got a long night ahead of us."

"Well," she said, "You want to go in there and tell them to knock it off?"

"If I thought it would actually work, I would," Duncan said, "But that girl…"

"Richelle," she reminded him.

"She doesn't pay attention to _anything_ I say."

"Well why should she?" Tessa asked, "You're not her father."

"I know I'm not," Duncan told her.

"Then why have you been acting like a policeman with her?"

"Probably because she has the criminal air about her."

"Come on, Duncan, that's not fair," Tessa said, "You took her fingerprints to the police today, what did they say?"

"They don't have her on file, that only means that she hasn't committed any crimes _here_ in Vancouver. Who knows what she's done in New York?" Duncan asked.

"What does it matter?" Tessa asked, "Why were you even trying to find out if her prints were in the system?"

"I was hoping we could find out if she even is who she says she is," Duncan said.

"Not this again," Tessa pulled her own pillow over her head and turned away.

"I don't believe her name _is_ Richelle Ryan," Duncan said.

Tessa was laughing, a mixture of hysteria and exhaustion, "Why not?"

"It's too much of a coincidence," Duncan told her.

Tessa groaned and tossed her pillow aside and sat up in bed, "Alright, you know what, Duncan? You may have been right about Richie's father, but I think you're jumping the gun with Richelle. Is it really so hard to believe she could be his sister?"

"If she is," Duncan said, "Where's she been all these years? How'd _she_ get to New York?"

"I don't know," Tessa responded, "Maybe they were split up in the orphanage."

"We don't know they were in one before Emily Ryan took Richie in," Duncan said, "His foster mother gave Richie _her_ last name, how could Richelle have the same name if they're really related?"

"Maybe their last name really _was_ Ryan, did you ever think of that, Duncan?" Tessa asked.

She looked at him, "You hadn't, had you?"

Suddenly, everything went quiet. Duncan sat up and looked to the door to see if the light had gone out across the hall. It hadn't yet. At least the noise was over, he thought.

"You see?" Tessa said.

They both laid down and closed their eyes, but no sooner had they, they heard a similar noise to the one they'd been hearing, only louder.

"Oh great," Duncan grumbled, "They opened up the second game Connor bought them."

"That one has a three minute timer with it, doesn't it?" Tessa asked.

"Yeah."

"Well," she said, "We should be able to set the clock by this game."

* * *

Duncan's bad mood would've been heightened greatly if he knew that in the room down the hall, Richie and Richelle were not _really_ playing Boggle, nor had they been playing Yahtzee for an hour. Instead, what they were really doing was occasionally picking up the dice and shaking them just for the hell of it, while the two talked amongst themselves. Richie put the dice cube down and Richelle turned the sand timer over.

"He really hates me, you know?" Richelle asked.

"Well I don't imagine this…" Richie gestured to the tray with 16 cubes in it, "Is doing you any favors with Mac, you know."

"It doesn't matter, he didn't like me from the moment I stepped into this place," she said, "The question is why?"

Richie shrugged one shoulder and said, "I don't know."

"Of course you realize Richie," she said, "If you think about it, he doesn't like you very much either."

"Yeah, I know," Richie replied, "I just try not to think about it."

"He doesn't like either of us…I guess that makes sense, we're like each other, he can't very well like one of us and not the other," Richelle said, "Can he?"

"I don't know," Richie said.

"Well, it doesn't matter much," she told him, "He doesn't like me, there's no point in me trying to be nice to the guy, it wouldn't do any good. He's already made up his mind about me."

"And I suppose you've done the same about him?" Richie asked.

"Oh sure, I made up my mind about him…he's a totally rotten human being," she answered.

Richie rubbed one tired eye and said, "I don't know about that, Richelle."

"I do," she replied, "I've seen his kind before, I know all about them."

"What kind is that?" Richie asked.

"Arrogant, self-righteous, egotistical, maniacal, anal-retentive, they think the whole damn world revolves around them and that everybody's beneath them."

"Mac's not like that," Richie insisted.

Richelle laughed, "He's spread to you, you don't even see it. He treats you like a dog. You saw how he was acting today, he wasn't about to let you out of this place until _he_ decided so. Look at yourself, Richie, you are 18 years old and that means by law, _you_ make your own decisions, you decide when you leave, not him. What he did this morning was holding a person against their will, that's kidnapping, and if he tries it again I'm going to knock down the door and throw him out, I don't care if he _is_ 400 years old." She looked and saw the sand had run out, "Rack them up again."

Richie put the cover on the dice tray and shook it violently for about 30 seconds before setting them down.

* * *

"I don't know what your problem is with Richelle," Connor told Duncan the next morning, "But whatever it is, it's putting her in a bad mood and it's starting to rub off on me."

"There's just something about her that I don't trust," Duncan said.

"Yes, and I can certainly see why," Connor responded, "You don't have her under your thumb, you don't get to dictate what she does every day."

"That's not what I do with Richie," Duncan told him.

"Isn't it?"

"He's living here, Connor, we all have our own work to do."

"Uh huh…and how many times do you forbid yourself from leaving the house until your work is done? Or do you keep Tessa locked in her workshop until she finishes?"

"That's different," Duncan said.

"Do as I say, not as I do…it's always different when the adult does it, it never makes it right," Connor said to his cousin.

What neither Immortal was aware of was that they were being watched. Tessa had gone out early that morning, and so had Richie and Richelle, but the latter two had come back, Richelle carrying a 2 pound box of candy they'd bought, and they were watching the argument from around the corner.

"Isn't that cute, Richie?" Richelle asked him, "Our wardens are having a lover's quarrel. Wonder if they'll get divorced."

They backed away and took their box into the kitchen. Richie tore at the plastic wrapping on it and opened the box. He looked and saw Richelle was peeling one of the bananas.

"Aren't you going to have any?" he asked.

"My potassium deficiency," she replied.

Richelle ate the banana and tossed the peel on the floor, hoping that fate would have it in for Duncan again and he'd slip and break his neck.

"Now that I think of it, I think I _will_ have a piece," she told Richie, "Hey, Tessa's still out, would her workshop be open?"

"Sure," Richie said.

"Let's go see it," she told him.

They left and a few minutes later, Connor, who had ended his conversation with Duncan without hitting him this time, though he regretted that, came through, his foot met with the banana peel and his body launched into the air and he fell and landed flat on his back. It took a few seconds for everything to become clear again but when he was able to see, he looked up and saw his cousin standing over him, eating a banana.

"What happened?" Duncan asked.

What happened? Connor got up, grabbed the peel he'd slipped on and hit Duncan in the face with it. "What happened!?" Connor repeated as he hit Duncan again with the sharp, dry top of the peel.

* * *

"So this is where Tessa does her work, huh?" Richelle asked as they entered her workshop.

"Yeah," Richie answered.

"And…what does she do in here?"

"She makes sculptures," Richie answered.

"You know, on the way here, we stopped at the park, and Connor showed me some things she's already made that they put up there, I don't get it," Richelle said.

Richie turned to her, "Don't get what?"

"Richie, those things in the park, they _all_ looked like great big stone donuts. _That's_ art? _That's_ culture? And look at this thing she's working on now, gray and lifeless, as lifeless as this house is. She has no artistic ability and if this _is_ great art, then I thank God I'm culturally ignorant."

"Well most sculptures _are_ like that," Richie said.

"She ought to try making a sculpture of Connor, _au natural_, _then_ she'd be doing something worth her time that's artistic," Richelle said, "That poor stupid woman, she's wasting her life on an empty, hopeless illusion and she doesn't even realize it."

"What're you talking about?" Richie asked, beginning to feel very defensive towards the things his sister was saying.

"If _this_," Richelle pointed to Tessa's current masterpiece, "Is what gives that woman's life purpose and meaning, she's better off swan-diving off the bridge right now. She'd be smarter to do that now, than let Duncan get her killed."

"He's not going to do that," Richie told her.

"Yes he is, Richie," she insisted, "He dragged her into his life, his life in which he has people trying to kill him. Does he _really_ think they won't get to her first as a go-between? Does he think he can protect her at all times from the thousand or so enemies he's made over the years? He's killed this woman already, they just don't know it yet. It's the _only_ reason Immortals do that, bring mortals into their lives…he's put a big bulls eye in the middle of her chest…yours too, Richie."

"What about Connor?" Richie asked, "If that's true, hasn't he done the same with you?"

"As I said," Richelle told her brother, "It's my life…nobody's going to care if I die…but I know what's what, and I know I have a fighting chance. Tessa doesn't, she's a boney Parisian sitting duck and she's too stupid to realize it. She let love blind her. And if she had any brains in her at all she wouldn't have done that. I can tell despite all their work, they haven't completely sold you on this big happy family idea. Grow up, Richie, and see your warden for what he really is, he doesn't want you, he doesn't need you, he's just waiting for the day that you screw up and then he's going to have an excuse to kick you out of here so he can shrug his shoulders to Connor and say 'I did my best'."

"You don't know that!" Richie told her.

"He's no different than any other foster parent, Richie, they all do the same thing, they take you in because they feel sorry for you or because somebody suggested they help you. They feed you, they clothe you, they give you a room, a few things to call your own and they put up with you. But the sand always runs out of the timer, Richie, as soon as you let your guard down, he'll be just like the rest and toss you out…if he doesn't kill _you_ first."

It was obvious from the way Richie was reacting that she wasn't saying anything to him that he hadn't considered before for himself. This was just the first time anybody else had ever given voice to the same ideas.

"What the hell am I going to do?" he asked her.

"Don't worry, now that Connor and I are here, that's not going to happen," she told him, "At least now you have an option."

Richie nodded. "So what do we do now?"

Richelle looked again at the pale sculpture Tessa was working on and she told him, "I have an idea."

* * *

Tessa came into the kitchen and saw Duncan standing by the sink with a sour look on his face.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"It's Richelle," he said.

Tessa rolled her eyes, "What's she done now?"

"She's been leaving banana peels all over the floor, Connor slips on them, but he thinks I did it so he starts hitting me with them."

Tessa started laughing, "What?"

"It's not funny," Duncan replied.

"Where is Richelle?"

"Richie took her out for a ride on his bike."

Tessa giggled, "You can be sure now that he's been on her motorcycle, he'll be on our backs for a larger one too." Duncan's icy disposition didn't thaw any. "Come on, Duncan, she's not as bad as you think…we all like her, she's a nice girl."

"After what she said to you?" Duncan asked.

"Well it's like Connor said, she was raised in New York, it does make a difference," Tessa said.

"It makes no difference!" Duncan insisted.

"Well, I said she was nice, I didn't say she was polite," Tessa replied, "Besides, I don't really think she means half the things she says. And besides, having her here is good for Richie."

Duncan started to laugh but there was no humor to it, "And how did you arrive at that decision?"

"Let's face it Duncan, Richie doesn't have many friends, certainly none that come around here anymore, and he never had many to begin with…several of them have died, and he has trouble getting in with anyone new. At least with Richelle there's some guarantee that she'll come back. Besides, most of the girls he meets he falls head over heels for, and then he winds up getting hurt. Either they don't like him, or their parents don't, when was the last time _you_ had that problem?" Tessa asked.

"Well…it hasn't come up recently," Duncan confessed.

"I remember what it's like though," Tessa said, "Sometimes there _are_ advantages to not being Immortal."

"I never said there weren't," Duncan said.

"Oh but to hear you talk sometimes, the only way we could possibly work out would be if I would live for hundreds of years," Tessa told him, "You're never pleased to be with someone who you know will succumb to old age and die someday." She changed the subject by adding, "Now I've got some work to do," and with that, she left the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Duncan heard her from her workshop and it sounded like she was screaming. He ran in to see what was the matter, but found out that Tessa's problem was she couldn't breathe because she was laughing so hard. Duncan looked to see what she was laughing at and saw what she saw, somebody, and he had a good idea who, had stitched a bathing suit onto her sculpture. The first thought that registered in Duncan's mind was that he could just kill Richelle right then and there if he knew where she was.

* * *

"Oh come on, Richie," Richelle said as they came in the back door, him trying to get as far ahead of her as possible.

"No way," he said.

"You don't think it's possible?" she asked him.

"Uh uh," Richie shook his head.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because I can't see Tessa marrying Connor for any reason, that's why," Richie said.

"You don't think she'd want to be married to him?"

"Nope."

"But she wants to be married to his younger and dumber cousin?" Richelle asked.

Richie got his mouth open but before he could get a word out, Richelle continued, "Think about it, Richie…she'd get the hell out of Vancouver, get to New York where she could get some real inspiration, Connor is a worldwide traveler, she could go anywhere she wanted at any time, he has no responsibilities, no obligations, and think about this, if she married him, we could go with them anywhere they went."

"What's going on in here?" Connor asked as he entered the room.

"Nothing," both teenagers replied.

"Uh huh," Connor said, obvious that he didn't believe them but he wasn't going to press any further, "Oh by the way, you probably guessed already but Duncan wasn't pleased by that little stunt in Tessa's workshop."

"Of course," they said.

"But she thought it was funny," Connor grabbed Richelle by the hair and pulled her head back as he asked her, "Was that the brand new swimming suit we had to go to three different stores to look for before we found one that would fit you?"

"Ouch! Let go!" Richelle pulled out of his grip, "No, we got that at the thrift store down the street, cheapest thing you ever saw."

"Well that's different," Connor said, "So how did you enjoy seeing the city from the view of the back of Richie's bike?"

"It's pathetic," Richelle said, "The bike I mean, we about got thrown off of it four times. That thing is _not_ built for the road, I swear, Richie," she turned to him, "Your warden is just trying to get you killed, otherwise he wouldn't have popped for something so flimsy, and cheap."

"I hate to say it, Richie, but I'm going to agree with her," Connor said, "Duncan could've certainly afforded to get you a full sized motorcycle before unleashing you on the city."

Richelle nodded her head and went 'mm-hmmm, mm-hmm' as if to say 'see? I told you so'.

"What he needs is one like mine," Richelle said.

"Hmmm, might be," Connor agreed.

"By the way, Connor," Richelle said as they headed to the kitchen, "Did you get that thing set up yet?"

"Yes I did, if it'll work that'll be another matter," Connor answered.

The other day when Connor had taken the two of them out, he'd taken them to a second hand store where they'd gotten the games; while they looked around he had spotted a police scanner that for some reason interested him and he'd gotten that too. Now they'd be able to hear any time the police or the paramedics or the fire trucks were sent out anywhere. The minute Richie saw it he said that the first time the scanner went off, Duncan would shoot through the roof, to which Connor had responded that that was the point.

The kitchen was empty and they took that as being a good sign. Richelle went over to the table and picked up another banana and started to peel it. Richie looked at Connor and noticed he was looking a bit odd.

"What's wrong?" Richie asked.

"Duncan's around somewhere," he answered.

Richelle heard that and poked her head around the corner to see if he was in the living room. She didn't see him so she took it as a good sign to go in.

"YOU!"

That was Duncan's voice.

"Uh oh," Connor said, "Come on."

He and Richie went into the next room where Duncan was screaming at Richelle who just stood there wide eyed and clueless about what was going on.

"I have just about had it with you!" Duncan told her, "AND QUIT EATING THE BANANAS! I don't want to see ANYMORE BANANAS! Do you hear me?" He grabbed the one she was currently eating out of her hand and added, "NO MORE BANANAS!"

"Oh for God's sake, Duncan!" Connor said, "Let her eat the bananas, she's already suffering from potassium deficiently induced anemia, you want her to get rickets and scurvy and end up in the hospital too?"

Duncan couldn't believe it, even in his own home he couldn't win an argument, even when he knew he was right. He collapsed in the chair and brought his hands up over his face and quietly groaned, trying to blot out everything and everybody around him. He didn't know how long Connor was planning to stay but he sincerely hoped they would have to make an urgent return to New York _very_ soon.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey Richie," Richelle said that night as the two spent the time rattling the dice to their games again to further annoy the people sleeping down the hall, "Is there anything good showing at the movie theater in this poor excuse for a town?"

Richie nodded his head, "Yeah, I think so, they've got one of those movies where an evil doll comes to life and starts killing people."

"Sweet, maybe we can go see it tomorrow," she said, "What time is it?"

Richie looked at his watch, "12:15."

Richelle got up and went over to Richie's TV set and turned it on and after quickly flipping through the channels, concluded there was nothing good on and turned it back off.

"I still think we should sneak out of this joint and get on my bike and ride around till the sun comes up," she said, "I'd like to see what this town looks like through the night."

"Like the daytime except it's dark," Richie commented.

"Don't be a wiseass," Richelle warned him as she returned to the center of the floor where he sat.

"Sorry."

"I don't know how long I'll be able to stand this place," Richelle said as she picked up the dice and shook them.

Richie looked at her and asked, "The loft, or Seacouver in general?"

"Both I suppose, it's very…claustrophobic inducing, don't you think so?" she asked.

Richie shrugged his shoulders, "I never thought about it I guess."

"You can't do _anything_ around here, even with Connor backing us we have to sit up in this damn room all night and contain ourselves like a quarantine."

Richelle ran her hands over her face as she stood up, "I'm tired."

"Me too," Richie said as he put the game away.

Richelle headed into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar to throw her clothes out as she changed for the night; Richie wandered right into the barrage of flying laundry, first out flew Richelle's T-shirt, then her jeans, and then her bra which Richie unintentionally caught. The garment in his hand, Richie held it up and got a better look at it.

"Well I sure as hell hope you're not going to ask to borrow it," Richelle said as she came out in an oversized Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle nightshirt. He looked at her, his eyes wide and him without a damn idea what to say, but she had plenty to suggest, "Put that thing down, titmouse, it's too big to fit you anyway."

Embarrassed beyond belief or words, Richie dropped it on the floor and let it lie there and he backed away over to his bed, took off his boots and crawled in on the left side.

"Hopefully tomorrow there'll be something better to do than there was today," Richelle said as she headed over to the other side of the bed.

"Yeah well if you hate it here so much," Richie said, "Why don't you go back to New York?"

"Don't tempt me or I will, and I'll take you with me," Richelle warned him.

"Oh shut up and go to bed," Richie told her.

Richelle reached over and pinched him so hard he yelled; he responded by kicking her. Richelle picked up her pillow and whopped Richie over the head with it. He wasn't about to admit defeat so he picked up his pillow as well and they took turns beating each other over the heads with their pillows.

* * *

Tessa covered her mouth to stifle a yawn as the three adults gathered in the kitchen the next morning. Duncan looked at the clock and said, "It's already eight o' clock, I wonder what's keeping the gruesome twosome today."

"They're probably relaxing, doing what I do when I want to relax," Connor said.

"What's that?" Tessa asked.

"It's Saturday morning, they're probably sitting around in their underwear drinking beer and watching cartoons," Connor told them.

Tessa and Duncan both went through expressions of reaction that were completely different from one another and yet there was a similarity in them; disbelief at what he said.

"I'll go look," Connor said.

As Connor neared Richie's bedroom he could hear both teenagers yelling about something. He opened the door and saw both of them, Richie in his jeans and bare-chested and Richelle in a T-shirt and her underwear, sitting at the foot of Richie's bed; sitting being a term best used lightly, both were bouncing up and down throwing blind punches into the air as they watched something on the TV.

"Come on, Jason, kill them!" Richie shouted at the TV.

"Come on, Tommy, kick his ass!" Richelle offered in response.

"Well now," Connor said with a smirk on his face, "I can definitely see the family resemblance." The two turned their attention away from the TV for a minute to look at him, "How's it going?"

"Fine," the two of them answered.

"Yeah well you better get your clothes on soon and come out before Duncan insists on coming in," Connor told Richie and Richelle.

"Anything we got he should be old enough by now to know what it is," Richelle insisted.

"All the same, put your clothes on," Connor made one last remark right before he headed out the door, "Don't make me get the hose!"

"What was that about?" Richie asked after Connor had left.

"Don't ask," Richelle answered.

They finished getting dressed and a short while later came out of the bedroom and showed their faces in the kitchen.

"Morning everybody," Richie said.

"Yeah yeah, what he said," Richelle dryly added as she made a beeline over to the fridge and stuck her head in it.

"Well, how did you two sleep last night?" Connor asked.

"Fine," both teenagers answered.

Richie collapsed into his chair at the table and Richelle grabbed a jar of jelly out of the fridge, swung around to grab the bread and a knife and seated herself between he and Connor.

"So Richelle," Tessa said, trying to think of something to say, "What do you two have planned for today?"

"Well this afternoon we're going to check out a movie at the theater," Richelle answered as she scooped out large chunks of jelly and smoothed them out on her bread, "Before that, I think we're just going to take in the whole city and see if there's actually anything around here that's worth our time. But in all honesty I think somebody could just do everybody a big favor if they nuked the whole place."

Duncan would've had something to say in return to that but he was too tired and just let it go.

* * *

"Okay, so we've basically been around this whole damn city about twice now," Richelle said to Richie later that morning, "And frankly, I still haven't seen one redeeming quality about the whole damn place."

Richie shrugged his shoulders and said, "I guess it just has to grow on you."

The two walked over to a mesh fence and looked in at an empty baseball field as they spoke. The sun had gone under a bunch of gray clouds earlier that day, only adding to the overall depressing feeling they were experiencing.

"Like a wart?" Richelle replied, "Like I said, you've lived here your whole life, you don't know any better."

"Yeah well I still don't get what's so important about New York," Richie told her.

"You would if you ever went there," Richelle said.

"Maybe…"

Richelle dug her fingers out of the mesh diamonds in the gate and asked Richie, "What time is it?"

He looked at his watch and answered, "About noon."

Richelle headed over to the street and sat down at the curb, "Well this is certainly becoming a barren source of amusement…what're we going to do now?"

"I don't know," Richie responded as he collapsed on the ground beside her.

They heard a horn honking nearby and looked up and saw Connor pull up across the street.

"What're you doing here?" Richelle asked as they headed over to his car.

"I've had about enough enlightenment from my cousin for one day," Connor answered, "I thought I'd find you two around somewhere."

"So why come to us?" Richelle asked.

"I seem to recall you two mentioning something about a movie later today," Connor said.

"You coming with us?" she asked.

"Anything has to be better than sitting around the house listening to Duncan complain," he answered.

"Complain about what?" Richie asked as they got into the car.

"You got a dictionary?" Connor replied.

* * *

Duncan had gone out for a while leaving Tessa alone, during which time she made the rounds going about the loft collecting everybody's dirty laundry. She gathered up everybody's except for Connor's, which since he was staying on the couch for the time being, he'd taken the liberty of dumping in Tessa and Duncan's bedroom.

Tessa picked up Connor's jeans, two of his shirts and his jacket and put them on the bed to sort through the pockets to make sure nothing wound up in the machine that shouldn't have. The jeans were cleared but she felt something in the breast pocket of Connor's jacket. She opened the pocket and pulled out a bunch of photographs.

Curiosity got the better of Tessa, not having known much about Duncan's cousin, and she went through the pictures one by one to see what they were, and she was surprised by what she saw. The first picture showed two people standing facing the camera, their hands over their eyes to shield them from the sun. As a result, half of their faces were hidden but Tessa was able to clearly make them out as Connor and Richelle. The next picture showed the two of them again, this time wearing dark sunglasses, standing side by side at the entrance to Coney Island, then another of them, on the Cyclone, and another at the Statue of Liberty, there were pictures of the two of them at landmarks and tourist sites all over the country. It looked to Tessa like the two of them were having the time of their lives.

Tessa heard the door open and Duncan come in, and she went out to meet him with the pictures in hand.

"Where have you been?" Tessa asked.

"Out," was his only answer.

"See anybody?" she asked.

"A few people," Duncan answered, but didn't expand on it.

Tessa all but shoved the pictures in his face. "I found these in Connor's pocket while I was getting the clothes ready for the wash."

Duncan took the pictures and looked at them, at first like he didn't know what they were. Then it started to become clear to him, and he started shuffling through all of them, and it still seemed he didn't like what he saw.

"Obviously this girl means very much to Connor," Tessa said, "It would seem he even considers her as part of his family."

Duncan put the pictures down in apparent disgust and said only, "Maybe."

"Maybe…how can you be so blind as to what's right in front of you?" Tessa asked, "He clearly thinks of her as much as his daughter as we think of Richie as being like our son, whether we admit it or not. Why do you go to so much trouble to despise her?"

"I do not, she's the one that hates me," Duncan said.

"And what have you done to counter that?" Tessa asked, "You yell at her, you threaten to throw her out, why should she like you?"

* * *

"Of course I'm not saying that living with Mac and Tess doesn't have its ups and downs," Richie told Richelle later that afternoon as they headed to the theater.

"I had guessed as much," Richelle replied, "I noticed when we first met, let me guess, they told you to put on something decent before we got there, right?"

"Well yeah…but you were dressed the same way," Richie realized.

"I have a valiant excuse for that," Richelle said, "I only brought three changes of clothes with me and that was the last clean pair."

They pulled up to the curb beside the movie theater, and Connor pulled up beside him in his car.

"Well, I hope this movie's good," Richie said as they headed in.

"Anything's got to be better than staying home and listening to Duncan complain about everything," Connor replied.

They headed into the lobby and got three tickets for the movie but found out it wasn't due to start for 15 more minutes.

"This is one reason why I hate theaters," Richelle said as the three of them sat down in the lobby and waited, "When they advertise a time they never bother to tell you if that's when the movie starts or when the previews for other movies start."

Richie and Richelle sat down beside each other and Connor sat down across from them on the other side of the theater's 'waiting room'.

"So what else do those two hicks do to you?" Richelle asked Richie.

"Nothing particularly awful," Richie said.

"Try to stuff some damn culture into you, do they?" she asked.

"How did you guess?" Richie asked.

Richelle gestured with her thumb towards Connor, who was looking the other way at something.

"Him?" Richie couldn't believe it, "I thought he was cool."

"For the most part he is, but he does occasionally insist on dragging me off to some God awful show…opera, Shakespeare crap, you name it," Richelle responded as she turned in the chair and elevated her legs on top of the one next to her, "They make you sit through that stuff?"

"Some of it," Richie said, "I usually wind up falling asleep."

"I should be so lucky," she replied.

"Yeah? They make you sit through that Midsummer Night stuff?" Richie asked.

"That movie where everybody runs around the woods naked in long sparkling wigs?" Richelle asked as she turned to look at him, "Oh yeah, I saw that one, that wasn't so bad."

"Well I think I've had enough culture for one day," Connor said as he got up, "Let's go find a seat for the movie."

"Think it'll be any good?" Richie asked.

"Doubtful," Richelle told him as they headed for the movie room, "I've seen every living killer doll movie there is and none of them are ever scary."

* * *

Two hours later the two teenagers walked out of the theater room with wide eyes and they never walked more than an inch away from each other. Connor walked out alongside them and said, "Well that was mildly entertaining."

"Yeah," Richie and his sister replied in unison, their eyes still the size of doorknobs.

They pushed past the crowd of everybody else walking away from the same movie and found their way back towards the lobby.

"Well I think we've avoided Duncan long enough," Connor told them and checked his watch, "We better get back soon or they'll have a search party out after us."

"Yeah," the two teenagers said again.

Richelle turned her head and said, "I have to go to the bathroom first." And she pulled away from Richie and headed over to the ladies room and the door closed behind her. Richie hadn't moved from where he stood, only turned around so he was facing the opposite wall. The restroom door swung open again as Richelle reached out, grabbed Richie by the arm and said, "You too," pulling him into the women's room without so much as a word of protest from her brother.

* * *

"You guys coming?" Connor asked as they got to the curb and reached their vehicles.

"We'll catch up," Richelle told him.

"Suit yourself," he replied as he got in his car and headed back for the shop.

"So what're we going to do now?" Richie asked.

"You know Richie, I had an idea earlier," Richelle told him, "When we were talking earlier about culture and all that stuff, it gave me a great idea."

Richie made a weird face, "What's that?"

"I'll explain it to you later, where's the library, or does this city even have one?" she asked.

"Yeah it's…it's uh…." Richie tried to point the direction but couldn't, "It'd be easier to get there if I drive."

Richelle grinned at him, a knowing grin that had her mouth been open, she would've resembled Alice's Cheshire cat, "You just want to see what it's like to be up front on this thing," she said, indicating her bike, "Alright, but put the helmet on first, last thing we need is you wiping out and splattering your brains all over the side of the road."

"Assuming I have brains, right?" Richie asked as he put on her helmet.

"No, that's Duncan," she told him as she straddled the seat and positioned herself behind Richie, "Alright, let's get the hell out of here, daylight's burning."

And off they went, halfway through the city, turning this way and that, occasionally having to make a few turns back because of traffic, or construction, or something else. Finally they reached the Seacouver Public Library and headed in.

"Do you have a card?" Richelle asked.

"No," Richie answered.

"Never mind, I'll get one," she said, "Where do they keep the nonfiction?"

They passed through the main room, first making their way past all the fiction shelves and then the biographies and then reached the nonfiction in the back, which was subdivided by categories of nonfiction, and they found what apparently Richelle was looking for near the far back. A full bookcase dedicated to poetry, poems, literature and comedy.

"What're we doing here?" Richie asked.

He looked and saw Richelle reaching up to the top shelf and pulling down a bunch of plays and humor books, and she said, "If it's culture that MacLeod is so damn hung up on, we'll give him culture alright…" Some of the books were falling off the shelf and just missed hitting the two of them. "We'll give him a dose of his own medicine and see how he likes it."


	7. Chapter 7

Duncan looked around the loft and noticed that Connor had come back alone. "_They_ didn't come with you?" he asked.

"_They_ have names you know," Connor replied, "And no they didn't, they said they'd catch up, they took Richelle's bike."

"How was the movie?" Tessa asked.

"It was a movie about a little doll coming to life and stabbing people, how do you think it was?" Connor asked, "Isn't much to do at those kinds of films except laugh at them."

"Then why did _you_ go?" Duncan asked.

"I've been stuck in this place with you for the last few days, I need all the laughs I can get," Connor dryly remarked, "And, I'll trust I haven't missed anything around here."

"Not much," Tessa answered, "Duncan's still trying to find some way to prove that Richelle is a fraud."

Connor groaned and grumbled something to himself before asking Duncan, "Why is it you don't believe she could be Richie's sister? What proof do you need before it finally hits you in the head?"

"Connor, there's got to be _some_ way to prove who she really is," Duncan insisted.

"Listen to you talk!" Tessa spoke up, "Weren't you the one telling Richie it's good not to know where you come from because you get to pick then?"

"That was different," Duncan said.

"Why? Because that's Richie and not his sister? It's okay for Richie to more or less be a myth but his sister has to factually exist?"

"I really don't get why it's so important to you anyway," Connor said to Duncan, "It's not like I'm asking you to raise her too, and a good thing, you seem to be doing poorly enough already with the boy."

The three of them got into an argument that carried on enough that they hadn't noticed the two teenagers sneaking back into the house.

"What do you think they're arguing about?" Richie asked.

"Who knows?" Richelle replied, "Better yet, who cares? Come on, let's go to your room."

And the two of them headed off for Richie's room, each carrying several large bags, none of which any of the adults ever noticed.

* * *

"Do you hear that?" Duncan asked Tessa that night when they were in bed.

Tessa grunted and turned over, "I was asleep. What's wrong?"

"Do you hear that?" he repeated.

Tessa pushed herself up in bed and listened, "I don't hear anything."

"Exactly," Duncan said, "This is the first night since Richelle came here that those two have been quiet."

Tessa yawned and commented as she lay back against the pillows, "Maybe they ate each other."

Finally, Duncan thought, he'd be able to get some sleep. But now he couldn't help but wonder…after hearing those two practically tear up the place for the past few nights…why all of a sudden did it stop? He had half a mind to go into Richie's room and see what was going on but decided against it, if by some chance the two had gone to sleep, hell if he was going to wake them up and open that can of worms again. So he settled down beside Tessa and tried to go to sleep.

What Duncan didn't know was that Richie and Richelle were not asleep, not even close. Instead, they were in his room making plans to draw Duncan in for an unpleasant surprise. Richie was taking out of a bag, one by one, several things they had picked up when they were out, including a toy horn, some noisemakers, and several large bags of metallic confetti.

"You know," he started to say.

"Shhhh," Richelle replied as she skimmed over the dialogue from A Midsummer Night's Dream that they'd checked out from the library, making some mimicked movements of a ballerina warming up for a recital.

"When Mac comes in here, he's going to kill us," Richie said.

"That he might," Richelle replied as she stretched her free arm over her head as she continued reading, "But at least we'd die having some fun. That's more than can be said for this whole damn building, all the life is draining out of it piece by piece and day by day."

Richie picked up one of the plays she had dumped on his bed and said, "You ought to consider this line of work."

"Shut up," Richelle replied, "You got everything?"

"Yeah," Richie answered.

Richelle spun around on the toes of one foot and saw what he was talking about. "Good, now take everything out," she told him.

She threw down Shakespeare and picked up another play and she started half speaking, half mumbling some of the lines, "Life is running around inside of me like a squirrel…" and like a silent actor terribly overacting his motivation, she started hopping around in circles, and repeated, slightly louder, "Life is running around inside of me like a squirrel." Then she stopped, "Na," and turned to another page, "I threw him on the floor, did it kill him?" She tried to read into it and personalize it, "I _threw_ him on the floor, did it _kill_ him?" She turned to Richie and said, "That one might work."

"I don't know," Richie said as he picked up another book, "I don't think we can use a lot of this stuff."

"Maybe not," Richelle threw down that book and picked up another play, "Dammit, this one's a musical…too bad we don't have a piano in here, but I suppose your stereo will have to do."

Richie took that one from her and she picked up another play and skimmed through it for good dialogue, "We were two raw unbleached schoolgirls." They looked at each other and laughed.

"I'm with you, Richie," she said as she threw the book down, "We won't be able to use most of this stuff, we'll just have to go with what we already have."

"Right," Richie said.

He watched as Richelle's eyes moved to look towards the door, she cocked her ear and said, "There's a play afoot, we'll be the audience!"

"And the actors too if we see cause," Richie added.

Duncan didn't know how long he'd been asleep but as soon as he heard the noise, he knew that it hadn't been near long enough.

What the hell was that noise? He thought to himself as he sat up in bed. He looked at the clock and saw it was about 1:30 He listened and tried to figure out what it was he was hearing…he couldn't tell, it sounded like somebody ringing bells and clattering a bunch of cheap New Year's Eve noisemakers together. He was already making a mental list of what he was going to do to those two as he got out of bed and headed down the hall.

Duncan was surprised to find that when he got to Richie's door, there weren't any lights on. He opened the door and peered in, but all was quiet, and Richie and Richelle were in bed. How could…had he imagined it? But how could he? Maybe he was starting to lose his mind, he started to wonder. He double checked to make sure that Richie and that girl weren't just pretending to sleep until he left the room. Both seemed to be perfectly sound asleep. He couldn't figure it out, but he was too tired to really care. He closed the door behind him again and went back to his own room.

As soon as Richie and his sister knew Duncan was gone, they threw back the covers and got up, Richelle dressed for their performance in a makeshift toga she'd put together from one of the bed sheets; Richie was still dressed as he was because though he agreed to take part in this ridiculous idea, he refused to dress like an idiot.

Richelle made quite a show of yawning and stretching her arms out before speaking up, "How now spirit, whither wonder you?" Without waiting for an answer she got up from the bed and continued, "Thou speakest aright, I _am_ that merry wanderer of the night. The king keeps his revels here tonight, take heed the queen not come within his sight, for Oberon is passing fell and wrath."

"And oh boy, what wrath," Richie agreed.

"That's right," Richelle said, "And we want to make sure he arrives on schedule, so we'd better call him, and we all know _how_ fairies call one another."

And on that note they each picked up some large bells they'd found in a junk shop and rang them loud enough to wake the dead; though not loud enough they couldn't hear Duncan and Tessa's bedroom door open, they quietly got back into bed and put the bells away and closed their eyes two seconds before Duncan opened the door and looked in again. And once again, finding nothing, he couldn't help but wonder if he was finally starting to go crazy and shut the door behind him again.

After his own door slammed shut, Richie and Richelle emerged from under the covers, their hands pressed over their mouths to keep from laughing loudly.

"This is too much," Richie said, "It's terrific."

"I know!" Richelle's voice got a few octaves too high to stay a whisper by any means and for a moment they worried Duncan might've heard them, but the moment passed and nothing happened. So they got up again and went back to work. Richie took out of its hiding spot, a large bag of streamers they'd picked up from a party supply store, and he started rigging them up right above the door so they'd fall on Duncan when the door opened, while Richelle fiddled around with Richie's stereo so it came on to just the right song when they hit the volume on it.

Richie went over to his drum set, picked up the drumsticks and when Richelle cranked the knob up on the radio, he started pounding the drums in somewhat of a beat connected to the music playing. Richelle ran over to the door and peered through the keyhole, and a few seconds later, she saw the lights come on in Duncan's room. She hit the lights, turned around and announced as she ran back to Richie, "Look out! Here comes Oberon, the biggest _fairy_ of them all!"

While Richie beat the drums, Richelle picked up the horn and started blowing it like an old messenger announcing somebody's arrival. The door flew open and Duncan stepped in, looking ready for a knockdown-drag out confrontation. As soon as he set foot into the room, several large red streamers fell down around him, distracting him only for a second, but long enough for Richie and Richelle to grab the bags of confetti and bombard him with the stuff, laughing at the top of their lungs like a couple of banshees. They stayed far enough away that Duncan couldn't grab at either of them and if he tried to lunge at either of them, they'd see him coming and get away.

Richelle jumped up and down a couple of times, inadvertently moving closer to Duncan as she announced, "Now we are dead, now we are fled, our soul is in the sky, moon, take thy flight!" And to Richie she added, "Let's get out of here!"

They ran by Duncan and headed for the living room with him not far behind them. Richelle led the way on a wild goose chase into the kitchen, where she and Richie ran around to the opposite side of the table that Duncan came to. Richelle picked up the big bowl of fruit on the table and started throwing everything at Duncan; bananas, apples, oranges, pears, and when the bowl was empty, she put it on her head and spun it around, proclaiming, "I am Nero! Rome is burning! I'm Nero! Let me get my fiddle! I'm Nero! I'm crazy!" It was something he hadn't anticipated in the least, giving them enough room to run out when Richelle threw the bowl at him.

The two teenagers ambushed Connor on the couch in and were screaming and shaking him to get up.

"What's the matter?" Connor asked.

"Your crazy cousin's trying to kill us!" Richelle answered as the two of them jumped behind the couch for cover just as Duncan entered the room.

Connor turned on the light and got a good look at Duncan who was covered in sparkling confetti and red streamers, and it was all Connor could do to keep a straight face as he said, "Duncan, you're a mess." Just as Duncan opened his mouth to speak, Connor told him, "Never mind, I'll handle this." He got up on his knees and looked behind the couch and asked, "Just whose bright idea was this?"

Richie and Richelle each pointed the finger at the other.

"That's what I thought," Connor said, and reached over and grabbed Richelle by the hair, "What was the bright idea?"

"Well I'll tell you, Connor," Richelle answered, "Nothing pleases this guy, he tries to culture Richie, so we were getting cultured, and he don't like that either, he chased us out of the room screaming bloody murder at us!"

"Alright, it's late, everybody's tired," Connor said, "You two go to bed," he turned to his cousin, "Duncan, get cleaned up, you're starting to look like a pixie."

Duncan was at a loss for words but his jaw dropped and he made several almost animalistic grunting noises as he tried to think of _something_ to say to his cousin.

"Connor," Richelle called back to him, "Would you say he looks like Oberon?"

Connor looked back at Duncan and looked him up and down in his black robe covered with glittering confetti and remarked, "Yes, slightly." He then looked at Richelle again and took in her attire. "Come here," he said.

Richelle stepped over towards him and said, "What?"

Connor pulled out one of the corners of the sheet she'd wrapped around herself and pulled it up over her head, and jokingly he remarked, "And don't forget, there's a meeting tomorrow night too! Now go on to bed."

* * *

Everything had gotten settled down and the grownups of the house thought they were going to get some sleep finally, but they were wrong.

Connor had been asleep again for a while when Richie and Richelle came back into the living room and started shaking him again to get him up.

"What is it now?" he asked, still half asleep.

"The TV in Richie's room just went out, can we watch the fight out here?" Richelle asked.

"I don't care," Connor replied as he rolled onto his side.

They leapt at the TV and started fighting with each other over what channel it was on.

"That's the wrong way," Richie slapped her hand away from the buttons, "That's the adult movie channel," and he started going toward the lower channels.

"Wait a minute," Connor said as he started to get up.

"What is it?" they asked.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"2:30," Richie answered.

"Okay," Connor laid back down and closed his eyes again, only to repeat the whole thing a minute later when he got up again and asked, "Wait a minute, what fight's on at 2:30 in the morning?"

"They're televising it from Japan," Richelle answered.

"Okay," Connor obviously saw it as a good enough answer and went back to sleep.

They got it to the right channel but then started adjusting the volume, until it was loud enough to be heard for the next block. But that wasn't all, as soon as the picture came on the screen of the two men practically killing each other, Richie and Richelle were both screaming, each cheering for a different fighter. Their yells and cheers were about as loud as the TV itself, all of which Connor was blissfully oblivious too, and all of which, was enough to wake the people in the next room.

Duncan was beyond the point of walking into a room now, he more or less hopped into the room, climbing over whatever was in his way of getting to Richie and Richelle, his hands clenching up into chokers looking to hook onto their necks.

"That is IT!" he told them, "I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU TWO! I HAVE HAD IT WITH YOU KEEPING US UP ALL HOURS OF THE NIGHT, IF I HEAR ONE MORE SOUND OUT OF EITHER OF YOU, JUST ONE, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

"Hey Duncan," Connor said from his place on the couch, "You want to keep it down? I'm trying to sleep."

Duncan let out a disgruntled yell as he just about fell to the floor.

* * *

"Why is it I'm the bad guy in my own home?" Duncan asked Tessa the next morning.

"I don't know," Tessa replied tiredly, "Maybe if you weren't always trying to pick a fight with them…"

"I never started it, Tessa."

"No, but Richelle's trying to get a rise out of you, and she knows she can, you always give in to it…maybe that's why they do it, because you make it so easy for them," she suggested.

"So what? I should just give two teenagers the run of the house?" Duncan asked.

"Maybe if you'd stop trying to prove Richelle isn't what she is, she'd leave you alone," Connor suggested as he entered the kitchen dressed almost formally for the day.

"I never say anything around her," Duncan told his cousin.

"And you don't need to tell a dog you're afraid of it, it can smell it and it'll bite you for it," Connor replied, "You know, Duncan, I've been trying to think why you're so hell bent on proving Richelle isn't Richie's sister, and I think I've finally figured it out."

"What's that?" Duncan and Tessa asked.

"It's not so much you think Richelle's not his sister, it's that she has to not be…because if she was, she would be his real family, even though he's 18, that would overweigh you and Tessa being his guardians. Maybe you're worried he'll decide he'd rather be with her than you."

Tessa seemed to get what Connor was saying faster than Duncan did, "You think they _would_…you mean the two of them running away?"

"Where would they go?" Duncan asked, sounding sure of himself, "They couldn't get far, they don't have much money."

Connor paused for a second before he responded, "Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that Richelle has $5,000 with her, eh?"

"She what?" they both asked.

"Where did she get that much money from?" Tessa asked.

"I gave it to her of course," Connor answered.

"Why in the _hell_ would you do that?" Duncan asked.

"Why not?" Connor replied, "You think I'm going to will it to you when I die? If Richelle decides she's had enough of me and my house and New York, she's got to have money to get somewhere…you mean you wouldn't do the same for Richie?"

"No!" Duncan replied.

"And why not?" Connor wanted to know.

"How do you know she even still has that money?" Duncan asked.

"What's she going to spend it all on?" Connor asked, "She's not stupid, Duncan, contrary to what you might think."

"But Connor, isn't that dangerous her running around with all that money?" Tessa asked.

"It's only dangerous if somebody can tell she has it, did either of you two notice it?" Connor asked.

Tessa and Duncan both shook their heads.

"You see?" Connor said, "She knows what she's doing."

Tessa cleared her throat and elbowed Duncan less than subtly to let both the men know the two teenagers in question were coming.

"What time is it?" Richie tiredly asked as he rubbed one eye with his fist.

"Late enough," Connor told him, then turned to Duncan and said, "Duncan, what time are the church services around here? I'm in the mood to go to church, and I'm going to take the kids with me."

"That's the first good idea I've heard all week," Duncan dryly remarked.

"Which church?" Richelle asked, sounding a bit suspicious.

"Which church?" Connor repeated, "The Catholic church, what did you think?"

"Well you can count me out," she said, "You know what I think about that place _and_ that religion."

"You're going," Connor told her, then looked at Richie, "Both of you."

"It sounds like a good idea," Tessa said, "I think I'll go too, it's been a while since I've gone."

"I could tell," Richelle murmured to Richie, to which he only replied, "Shhh."

"We can go after breakfast," Tessa said, "How about it, Duncan?"

Duncan wouldn't turn around to face any of them, his only answer was that he'd rather spend the morning at home.

"Suit yourself," Connor said, "I can't make _you_ go, these two I can however." He turned to them and added, "After we eat, both of you go and dress respectively."

"What for?" Richelle asked, "God knows what we look like six other days of the week, He ain't damning us for that."

Connor swatted Richelle in the back of the head and remarked, "You're going to do it if I have to dress you myself."

"What do I look like, a cutout doll?" she asked, "Don't answer that."

* * *

After breakfast, Tessa cleared the table while Richie and Richelle went back to his room to change.

"Are you sure you won't reconsider, Duncan?" Tessa asked.

"Tessa, if he doesn't want to go, he doesn't want to go," Connor said, "It's very simple."

"I think I'll just lounge around here for a while," Duncan said, "Things have been pretty hectic this week, I think it'll do me some good to just be here alone for a while and think."

"If you insist," Tessa replied.

"He does," Connor added.

"I think the problem is, like Connor said, we're all crammed in here together, that doesn't give any of us much room to breathe," Duncan told Tessa, "I'm sure a couple hours away from Richelle and Richie will help me a lot."

"Okay Tessa," Richie said as they reentered the kitchen, "Here we are."

They saw that Richie was dressed in his one pair of good jeans, a dark T-shirt, and his boots, and Richelle was dressed in regular blue jeans, black boots and a long sleeved white button up shirt.

"That's a big improvement," Tessa said.

Duncan got up right next to Richelle and looked her over, coming to the conclusion, "That's _my_ shirt."

Richelle turned around to look at him and responded, "Well now you know how it should fit."

Connor recognized the look in Duncan's eyes, the look that said 'get her out of here before I kill somebody'; so he made quick work of getting everybody out of the loft and down to the street. Richie and Richelle piled into the back of his car while Tessa sat beside him up front. He pulled away from the curb and they were gone.

A few minutes after they had left, Tessa looked out the window and commented, "This isn't the way to the church."

"I know," Connor answered, "We're taking a little detour."

Tessa turned and looked at him and asked, "To where?"

"You'll see," was his only answer.

After a few more minutes, he stopped the car and, turning around, told Richie and Richelle to get out.

"Why?" Richie asked.

"We're getting out of going to church, what does it matter why?" Richelle asked as she reached for her door.

Connor reached into his pocket and took out some money and gave it to the two of them, telling Richelle they'd meet up after 12.

"Right," she agreed, pocketing her share of the money.

Connor started the car again and he and Tessa drove on down the road, leaving the two teenagers behind.

"What's going on?" Richie asked.

"It's very simple," Richelle told him, "He and Tessa are going to church, and we're free for the rest of the morning, so we can do anything we want." She waved the bills in her hand like a fan, "And Connor's paying for it."

* * *

Tessa craned her neck around to look back at Richie and his sister as she asked Connor, "Why did you do that?"

"Richie and Richelle are still young," Connor offered as an answer, "They have plenty of time to worry about their immortal souls…they can afford to take a Sunday off, and since it's so nice today, I can't see any reason why they shouldn't."

She was starting to put it together, "You had no intention of taking them to church with us, did you?"

"None whatsoever," Connor told her, "Why do you think I didn't press Duncan to come with us?"

"But what will they do?" Tessa asked.

"Whatever they want, they have the time and the money for it," Connor said, "We'll go looking for them in a couple of hours…in the meantime, just being out of the house and away from Duncan is doing me plenty of good, and I'm sure it is for you too, you just don't know it yet."

"What I can't understand is why you hate him so much," Tessa said.

"Hate him?" Connor repeated, "How can I hate him? We're from the same clan, he's family."

"Then why aren't you defending him?" Tessa asked.

"Like you are?" Connor replied, "We're both on the same side of this, we both think Duncan's overreacting on this whole thing…and unfortunately he's just that kind of person."

"What kind?" Tessa asked.

"When he feels he's not being backed up, he pushes the people he's closest to away, he can't stand people questioning what he does," Connor explained.

"_Now _you tell me," Tessa dryly remarked as she rolled her eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

Duncan waited and as soon as Connor and the others had left, he went into Richie's room and looked for Richelle's two bags she'd brought with her. He found them by the bed and all but tore them apart, digging out the contents to look for the money Connor had given her. He found a change of clothes, a Walkman with half a dozen tapes, a paperback copy of First Blood, a pack of chewing gun, half a pack of cigarettes, a couple cans of beer and half a bottle of champagne, on top of a few other things, but there was no sign of the $5,000, which meant that she had to be carrying it on her.

He tried to think how she could possibly be carrying $5,000 in cash and nobody would notice. Even if it was all in hundreds, which he doubted Connor was stupid enough to give her, where the hell was she going to carry 50 bills? If she had a wallet, it couldn't possibly hold that much money. It didn't make sense. None of it made any sense. Nothing had made one bit of sense since Connor showed up with that girl.

It didn't make _any_ sense. Where did that girl come from? _How_ could she look so much like Richie? And why in the hell was her name almost identical to his? And why? That was the real question behind everything. Why? Why was she here? What was it she wanted? Who, he even wondered, was she working for?

Duncan couldn't figure it out and so far all he was met with were dead ends, nothing on her name, nothing on her fingerprints, nothing, period. That to him was proof that there was something about the whole ordeal that wasn't kosher, if she had nothing to hide, he should have been able to find _something _on her.

He would swear that he had seen this movie before. The story always opened up the same way, an outsider comes in and starts taking over. So far that seemed to be proven true here; almost immediately after Richelle set foot into the shop, she already had Connor around her thumb, and then Richie, and then finally even Tessa. He was the only one left, and they had all turned on him. Duncan refused to believe it was a coincidence or anything else. There had to be some grand scheme behind it all and he was determined to find out what Richelle's sinister plan was before anything serious happened.

* * *

Richie and his sister laughed as they went around in circles touring through the zoo looking at all the animals, carrying half eaten ice cream cones in their hands.

As soon as Connor had dropped them off, they'd wandered around and first came across a carnival that was in town. They'd spent two hours playing the games and going on bumper cars, the Scrambler, a Trabant wheel, and a pendulum ride that swung them back and forth and then went upside down and stopped before repeating. Once they'd gotten their fill of that, they got out of there, got some ice cream and decided to head over to the zoo. Richelle had told Richie that would be the first place most likely for Connor to come and look for them, and he should be coming to pick them up soon.

"Are you sure Connor's going to come here?" Richie asked his sister.

"Trust me, he'll be here," she insisted, "Connor's weird, he has a thing for zoos, especially the lion cages."

Richie chewed up the last of his cone and looked around at the animals, "So what do we do while we wait?"

Richelle touched his arm and pointed over to the bear cage. "I've got an idea. You want to see something neat?"

"Sure, what?" Richie asked.

She had Richie follow her over towards the cage and they looked in at a big brown bear that went around in circles with its head swaying from side to side, the bones in its shoulders sticking out every time it moved.

"Now what?" Richie asked.

"Bend over," she told him.

Richie didn't get it but he did it, he bent down and Richelle climbed onto his back and told him to turn around so they faced the bear cage. He did, and watched as Richelle stretched out her arm with the remainder of her ice cream cone in hand, and held it out for the bear to take.

"He's going to bite your hand off," Richie told her.

"No he won't," Richelle told him, "Just watch."

She reached out further and managed to stick her hand, up to the wrist, in between the bars, offering the waffle cone to the bear. It noticed and got up on his hind legs and sniffed at the ice cream, then, lurched forward and grabbed it with its teeth at just the moment Richelle let go of it. She and Richie backed away from the cage and Richie put Richelle down and they both watched the bear as it ate and they applauded what had been no easy feat.

They heard someone else applauding and it was at that moment they turned around and saw Tessa and Connor standing behind them.

"How long have you been there?" Richelle asked.

"Long enough to see you doing your Fatty Arbuckle impression," Connor told her, "Don't you know it's illegal to feed the animals?"

Richelle pointed behind her to the bear's cage and asked, "Who's he going to tell?"

"Well did you two have a good time?" Connor asked as they walked up to the teenagers, "Being away from Duncan all morning?"

"We sure did," Richelle answered.

Richie found himself agreeing, "It's been great."

"Good!" Connor replied as he draped an arm over each of their shoulders, "I was hoping you would."

Richelle reached over and grabbed a handful of Connor's jacket and tugged on it to get his attention. "Connor," she said, "Do we _have_ to go back to the antique store now?"

"Actually," he told them, "I thought before we went back there we might stop somewhere and get a couple of pizzas for lunch." He saw the way their four eyes lit up when they heard that and in spite of himself, he couldn't help letting out a brief chuckle, "How does that sound to you?"

"It sounds great!" they both answered simultaneously, then turned and looked at each other in surprise.

"Great," Connor said, "That just leaves the question of what to get."

"That's easy," Richie started counting off on his fingers, "I want pepperoni, sausage, onions, peppers, Canadian bacon, extra cheese…"

Richelle made a face and stuck out her tongue, "Not me, not pepperoni, I _hate_ pepperoni, I want black olives and artichoke hearts and pineapple."

"Well," Tessa said to Connor as they walked out to the car, "It's nice to know they're not _completely_ identical."

"Hallelujah and praise God for that one," Connor dryly remarked, "I shudder to think which one we'd get a double of if they were."

* * *

"Okay, thank you," Duncan said right before he hung up the telephone receiver.

Connor wasn't the only person in New York that Duncan knew. He had a few contacts back east who worked in public records, social services, etc. He'd called everybody he knew in the state on the off chance any of them would've ever have heard of a girl named Richelle Ryan and fitting the description he gave them. Nobody there knew of any such girl. Now, he was aware that New York was a large state with millions of people in it, but still, as much as Richelle boasted to Richie about getting around the place, if it was true, somebody somewhere would have to see her eventually, and if they did, the odds were they would remember her. Duncan knew from only having to endure her presence for a few days, you don't forget somebody like that thing.

He felt a quickening and heard Connor's voice call out as the door opened. "We're back."

Duncan put the phone away and tried to act convincing as he went over to greet everybody home. He welcomed Connor back and kissed Tessa but got smashed in between Richie and Richelle, both of whom were carrying large paper bags that had been stuffed to the maximum capacity. As soon as they got around him, he turned back to Connor and asked him, "How did it go?"

"Fine," Connor insisted as he took off his jacket, "The kids are no trouble at all."

"Oh really?" he asked, looking to Tessa for further information, but she wouldn't help him.

Duncan saw Connor taking a small pill bottle out of his jacket pocket and trying to hide it. "What's that?"

The kids had already gone ahead into the kitchen so Connor told him, "Potassium supplements…Richelle's too stubborn to take them herself so lately I've taken to hiding them in her food, she has no idea."

Tessa poked Connor in the shoulder and when he leaned over towards her she suggested, "If we could get some sleeping pills, maybe you could do the same with Duncan."

Connor started laughing, "Tessa, I have an idea you and I are going to get along perfectly."

* * *

Richie and Richelle made quick work of putting away the junk food they'd gotten on the way home. Richelle dumped her bag upside down to get the last of its contents out and out poured a few candy bars and a large pack of peppermint gum.

"Do me a favor and put this stuff away in my bag, will you?" she asked.

Richie picked up the stuff and headed out of the kitchen, passing Duncan who was on his way into the room.

"So," he said, a large, phony grin on his face, though it was in vain because Richelle had her back to him, "Did you two have a good time today?"

"Why does everybody keep asking us that?" Richelle asked, "Yes, we had a good time, we had a swell time, I'd like to do this kind of crap everyday with Richie, we connect."

Richelle had been putting ice cream and leftover pizza in the freezer and hadn't noticed Duncan slowly creeping up to her until he was practically on top of her. So when his pleasant front broke away and he yelled at her, "You lie!" she about hit the ceiling, and turned around to find out what he was up to now.

"Guess what, kid?" Duncan said, his voice low and ominous, "Your game is up, I made a few calls to New York and guess what?"

"Connor!" Richelle looked past Duncan and called out to the living room, "Your cousin's going berserk again!"

"Nobody there has ever heard of you," Duncan told her, "Nobody's ever heard of Richelle Ryan, and nobody knows anything about anybody who fits your description."

"Well what the hell does that make you, Ben Stone?" Richelle asked, "Connor _told_ you that much. Connor!"

The older MacLeod entered the kitchen, appearing calm and cool and collected, but anybody who knew him could see under that thin veil and see he was just waiting for trouble, "What's going on in here?"

"He's doing it again, Connor," Richelle told him, "Now he's been calling back home to check me out. Will you do something with him, please? The man is clearly demented, he's crazy." Richelle picked up a package Richie had left behind, a Ouija board they'd picked up in a toy store, "We're going to go hold a séance and see how Lope de Aguirre's enjoying the 7th pit of hell."

She walked past the two men and into the next room where she saw Richie and Tessa at the doorway, saying only, "They're fighting again."

"How long do you think they can keep this up?" Richie asked Tessa.

"If there's going to be blood, I want to see it," Richelle said.

Richie grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back, "Come on," he said.

* * *

"You know, Duncan," Connor said, "As long as I've known you, you've done some pretty unusual things, sometimes even downright _stupid_, but for the most part, I've stood by you, I've supported you on your decisions…but you're losing me here. You want to throw me a rope on this one? Why are you so obsessed about this?"

"Connor, that woman is a fraud, whoever she is," Duncan said.

"_She_ is Richie's sister," Connor told him for the 20th time.

"She is _not_ Richie's sister, she can't be!" Duncan insisted.

"Why not?" Connor wanted to know, "Why can't she be?"

"Connor, nobody in New York has ever heard of her," Duncan said, "She's a fake, she wants something."

"Well of course she does!" Connor snapped, finally losing it with his cousin, "Of course she wants something! We _all_ want something!" he swung his arms every which way in an exaggerated manner as if trying to emphasize his point, "Richie wanted something too! He wanted a place to stay and enough food to eat and people who actually wanted him around! Richelle wants the same thing, Duncan, that's what I'm giving her! Are you so blind you can't see what's so plainly, painfully, in front of your face? Those two are exactly alike, they're one in the same, it's too much of a coincidence."

"_That_ is exactly my point, Connor, it _is_ too much of a coincidence. Too much of a coincidence that she could look so much like him; too much of a coincidence that they both have the same colored hair, the same kind of hair, the same clothes even! Where the hell did she even get that green jacket from?"

"_I_ bought it for her in a shop in New York City!" Connor told him.

"It's more than that!" Duncan replied.

"Oh you bet your ass it is!" Connor screamed back at him, "Richie rides a motorcycle, so does Richelle, Richie likes to play the drums, so does she, they were both thieves when we met them! You know psychology as well as I do, you know that twins can be separated, raised apart from each other their whole lives and they _still_ have the same characteristics, the same likes and dislikes, it's genetic! It's who they are!"

"Why did you really bring her here, Connor?" Duncan asked, the fight going out of his voice as well as his body, he slumped over in one of the chairs at the table, "For what purpose?"

Connor started to calm down as well. For a moment he stood in the middle of the kitchen all puffed up like a wet owl but he slowly let the air out he'd been holding in him and sank down in one of the chairs opposite Duncan. "I told you, I could tell they're too much alike for it to be coincidence. I had figured they were related, but I had to put the two of them together and see it for myself to actually _know_. And I'm convinced. From what I've seen of them in the last few days, I don't have a doubt now that they _are_ twins. And if they are…" he choked on a laugh and repeated that word to himself, "if", then continued, "Since they are…I think we need to figure something out."

They heard Tessa clearing her throat from the doorway and turned and saw her standing there, obviously having heard everything, and trying to figure out where she fit into all of this.

"What is it, Connor?" she asked, "What do we need to figure out?"

Connor closed his eyes and rubbed his face for a moment, looking very tired all of a sudden, "I've been trying to think how to bring this up…I think it would be a good idea if Richie and Richelle got to spend more time together, so they can continue bonding."

"You mean extending your stay here?" Tessa asked.

"No," Connor replied, "I mean having Richie come out to New York to stay with us for a while."

The fight suddenly came back into Duncan as he all but leapt back to his feet, "The hell he will!"

"Come on, Duncan, let's not carry on like a couple of 2 year olds," Connor said shaking his head, "You know we're acting worse than they are."

"Connor!" Duncan said, "I am not going to let Richie move to New York so he can bond with that little psycho!"

"Well now _wait_ one damn minute," Connor replied as he too stood up and faced down Duncan again, "Who said anything about you _letting_ Richie do anything? He's 18, that's old enough to do anything he damn well pleases, and if he wants to move to New York with Richelle and I, that's his business and there's nothing you can do to stop him! Even if he wasn't 18 it wouldn't matter because _you're not his family!_"

"Oh!" Duncan screamed, "Oh! But you and that little nut job are, is that it?"

Tessa tried to referee the two men but she was drowned out over their shouting match. What none of the adults had noticed was that Richie and Richelle had come back to watch the fight and were getting an eyeful, as well as an earful, of what was going on; and both teenagers stood there in awe, their eyes wide and their jaws all but dropped as they listened to the ongoing melee.

"I don't believe them!" Richie told his sister.

"Neither do I," she added, "Connor's right, they _are_ worse than us."

"For all I care," Duncan told Connor, "You can take that little nightmare you're so fond of and both of you can go back to New York, or hell for all I care. But I'll be damned if I'm going to let her stay here with Richie another minute!"

"Maybe I should!" Connor replied, "Because I don't want Richelle picking up any of the bad habits that you're rubbing off onto Richie!"

The two teenagers turned to each other when they heard that one. Split them up? Again?

"They can't be serious," Richie said.

Richelle looked to her brother and saw, despite his best efforts, the first sign of tears building up in his eyes. He was just about shaking, and she knew that she wasn't much better than he was.

"They're not," she told him, shaking her head, "They're not going to split us up, nobody's ever going to do that to us ever again." She grabbed Richie's hand and turned for the door, "Come on, Richie, before they see us."

They ran down the stairs leading to the shop, and ran out the back door and over to Richelle's bike. Hastily, they threw on their helmets and got on the motorcycle, with Richie driving, and they sped out of there like a couple of bats out of hell.

Richelle noticed how fast they were going, and also that they were swaying from side to side on the bike, and with her arms wrapped tight around Richie's waist, she could feel him trembling.

"Take it easy, Richie," she told him, "Don't kill us now!"

Over the roar of the engine, she could hear his ragged breathing as he tried to compose himself, she looked past him and saw his hands, which were clenched around the handlebars, were shaking despite his attempts to still them.

Richelle didn't need to look at the speedometer to know that they were going at 50 miles an hour. She had done it enough times to recognize the number just by how fast everything around them was zooming by. It was just fortunate for both of them that there wasn't much traffic right now, if they had to swerve to the side to avoid hitting somebody, they'd both wipe out, no question.

"How could they do that to us?" Richie asked, surprising his sister with his sudden break in silence, "How could he say that?"

"I don't know," Richelle answered, trying to sound calm for both their sakes.

They were getting off the main road now, and in fact it looked like they were getting out of Seacouver entirely, or at least just the city part of it. They had turned off onto a road that wasn't paved well and looked to still be mostly gravel and rocks and dirt. Along the sides of the road were tall weeds that the sun had burnt brown and gold, that they now gave off the illusion of looking like wheat crops were growing there. There weren't any cars or trucks on that same road as far as the eye could see, so in that regard they seemed to be okay. However, that thought was shaken loose from Richelle's mind when she felt the bike jerking from side to side beneath them.

"Richie, calm down!" she told him, "If you get us killed now, I'm never speaking to you again!"

It was then that she saw a large dip in the street ahead, like a whole piece had been broken out of the road.

"Richie, watch out!" she screamed, but it was too late.

* * *

Tessa had listened to Connor and Duncan squabbling with each other like a couple of children for the last 15 minutes and she had had enough of it. She got between the men and started screaming herself, yelling at them to shut up and calm down.

"There _has_ to be a better way to solve this problem than just by screaming at each other," she said.

"Unfortunately," Connor replied, "It would seem Duncan is too uncouth to know any other way of going about it."

"Don't start again, please!" Tessa told him.

They were interrupted by a loud screeching noise that had all of them covering their ears.

"What the hell is that noise?" Duncan asked.

Connor knew. "That police scanner I got at the second hand store!"

"Where did you put it?"

Connor led the way into the living room and showed it on a stand behind the couch. He was about to turn the volume down when voices started coming through on the scanner. A police report that there had been a motorcycle accident a mile south of the highway, and that paramedics were needed for two teenagers who had been involved in the crash. The three adults upon hearing this message, all looked to one another grimly and realized that the kids weren't there.

"Duncan," Connor said, "Which way is the highway?"

Duncan pointed behind him, "That way."

"And which way is the hospital?" Connor asked.

Duncan pointed to the right, "That way."

"Then we better hurry if we want to get out there before the ambulance takes them away," Connor said, already running to the door, with the other two following close behind him.

* * *

Duncan and Tessa raced out to the highway in the Thunderbird, Connor followed behind them in his own car. They turned south off the highway and quickly came upon a mess of blue and red lights and cars and vans scattered everywhere. The two cars stopped and the three adults got out, making their way past the reporters, passersby and the police to find out what had happened. Connor pointed over to the ambulance and they saw Richie and Richelle both being strapped onto gurneys.

Tessa's heart jumped in her throat and Duncan felt his stop when he saw Richie, who was a mess of blood and bruises and he wasn't moving at all. Connor looked and saw Richelle lying near Richie on another gurney, blood running down her arms and her neck was turned at such an angle that it looked broken, until she went into a fit of convulsions, then her whole body moved.

"What happened?" Duncan all but screamed at the first cop he saw.

"Man was driving through here, saw the wreck and called it in on his car phone," the officer answered, "Apparently these two were speeding through here on their bike when they hit the pothole. The girl was riding on the back and was thrown off the bike when it flipped, she rolled into the weeds. The guy wasn't so lucky."

"That's lucky?" Tessa asked.

"Look, I don't know what business this is of yours…" the officer started to say.

"We're their parents," the three of them answered.

The officer did a double take and said, "Well whoever of you has the boy…his leg was pinned under the bike until we got here and got it off of him…medics think his foot might be broken, they don't know yet."

"Oh my God," Tessa said.

Connor and Duncan looked and saw the medics loading both Richie and Richelle up in the ambulances and then closing the doors.

"We'll find out what hospital they're taking them to," Connor said, "And go from there."

"How did this happen?" Duncan asked, "What the hell were they doing out here?"

Connor looked to his cousin and responded, "I think we know."

Duncan looked back at him and without saying anything, realized that Connor was right.

The sirens and flashing lights went on and the ambulances pulled out of there and sped off for the hospital. Connor, without a further word to Tessa or Duncan, ran back to his car and followed after the ambulances to find out where Richie and Richelle were being taken. It took Duncan and Tessa a moment longer to pull themselves together before they got back in the Thunderbird and followed after them.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: I would like to apologize to the readers for my absence in the past month; but I have returned finally, bringing with me the final chapter for Gemini. I would also like to thank all the readers for their feedback. Hope you enjoy.

Connor reached the hospital first and a few minutes later, Duncan and Tessa caught up with him. The paramedics had wheeled Richie and Richelle out of the ambulances and in the front doors, with their guardians following close by.

"Richie's unconscious but nothing's broken," Connor told them, "But he's been bruised plenty and he'll probably have trouble getting around for the next few days."

"What about Richelle?" Tessa asked.

"Her?" Connor shook his head grimly, "They didn't find any trauma to her back but she doesn't seem to have much use of her upper body, she can't sit up and she can't use her arms much right now. They'll know more once the doctors have a chance to look at both of them. In the meantime we have to supply the local sawbones with their entire history, blood type, any medication they're on, any allergies they have…"

Connor was drowned out when they heard Richelle screaming. They ran out of the lobby and into the room Richelle had been taken to. She might not have had much use of her upper body but she was working the hell out of her lower body as she swung her legs and kicked at everybody who came near her. Connor got past the doctors and pinned her down and demanded to know what was the matter.

"They're trying to cut me open!" Richelle told him as she looked up at him, "You see? They're going to hack me apart and sell my organs all over town."

Connor turned his head and saw the scissors one doctor was holding, and he rolled his eyes. "Don't be stupid," he told Richelle, "They're just trying to cut your clothes off."

"And _why_?" she asked.

"Do you have any idea where you are?" Connor asked her.

"_No_ I don't have any idea where I am, what's happened? Where's Richie? What happened to him?" she demanded to know.

"Richelle," Connor forced himself to calm down as he tried talking to her, "You two wiped out, you're at the hospital now. The doctors _have_ to take your clothes off and examine you."

"Well they're not cutting them off," she insisted, "Why do they want to cut them off?"

"Because otherwise it's going to hurt!" Connor yelled at her.

Richelle tried to reach for the zipper on her jeans but found her arms wouldn't move that far down. "For $15, let it hurt," she told him.

Connor let out an exasperated sigh and turned to the doctors and said, "Give us a minute, will you?" and started to help Richelle out of her jeans.

Tessa and Duncan stood at the doorway and were horrified at what they saw when the jeans came off. Richelle's legs, which were ordinarily as pale as Richie's were, were now decorated in streaks of black and purple where they had been bruised in the fall. She groaned and squirmed as the denim rubbed over her skin as the jeans came off, and it was then that they could see a few bloody scrapes on her stomach as well. As bad as she looked, they hated to think how bad of shape Richie had to really be in considering that he had the bike on top of him in the fall.

* * *

One hour passed, then the doctors came out to give them the news. Richie and Richelle were both banged up and bruised up and would be sore and stiff for a good long while and might have a few scars at the end of it all, but nothing was broken or dislocated, and their saving grace seemed to be that they were both wearing their helmets at the time of the wreck. Richie had been moved to one room and Richelle was put in another; Connor stayed with her and Duncan and Tessa stayed at Richie's side, waiting for him to wake up.

"I can't believe that this happened," Tessa said after a while.

"I can't believe the two of them took off like that," Duncan replied, "What were they thinking?"

"You know what they were thinking, Duncan," Tessa told him, "They heard you and Connor fighting and decided they weren't going to be taken away from each other. Are you convinced now that they are related?"

Duncan looked down at the floor and answered, "I suppose they must be."

"You know they have to be or else they wouldn't have done this," Tessa said.

Time dragged its feet as they waited for Richie to wake up. An hour passed, then two hours, and as it neared the third hour, Tessa needed to get up and stretch her legs and get a cup of coffee, so she volunteered to go down to the cafeteria and see what she could get.

Duncan sat back in the chair and looked at Richie, who hadn't woken up, didn't move and hardly even breathed. He was thinking to himself how many painkillers Richie would need to be on when he woke up, when he felt a quickening approaching.

"How is he?" Connor asked as he came into the room.

"He hasn't woken up," Duncan answered, "How's Richelle?"

"She just went to sleep," Connor told him, "She bit two doctors, an orderly, and she tried to stab a nurse with her own pen…" he gave a weak smile and said, "It's a safe bet we won't be invited back to this place anytime in the near future."

"I'd guess not," Duncan dryly remarked.

"How are _you_ holding up?" Connor asked him.

"Fine," Duncan answered.

"Liar," Connor said.

"Is he awake yet?" they heard from behind them.

Both men turned around and looked with wide eyes as they saw Richelle, dressed in one of the hospital gowns, looking like the living dead under her mess of bruises and her half dead eyes, as she staggered into the room. "Richie, is he awake?"

"Not yet," Duncan finally found his voice.

"What are you doing up?" Connor asked.

They noticed that Richelle now walked with a slight limp in one leg, and as she walked over to Richie's hospital bed, she seemed to bear resemblance to the Frankenstein monster.

Connor grabbed Richelle by the back of her gown to get her attention, and he repeated his question, "What are you doing up?"

"What am I doing up?" she seemed surprised by his question, "Did you not see what happened to me? Do you have any idea how much in hell this is going to hurt in the morning, after a night of lying down in bed?"

"Richelle, go back to your room," Connor said.

"No," she insisted.

"Richelle," Connor's voice was getting lower now, more menacing, but she just stood against the wall and shook her head.

"I'll have the nurses put you on painkillers," he told her, "Go back to your room."

"Forget it, Connor," Richelle responded, "This time I'm not going to do what you say. I'm staying _right_ here with my brother." And to emphasize her words, she flopped down on the side of Richie's hospital bed, but the sudden addition in the weight to the mattress didn't stir him any.

"If this is about what happened earlier," Duncan started to say, but she cut him off.

"That certainly has _much_ to do with the situation we're in now," Richelle addressed both Highlanders now, "But this isn't about that…when Richie wakes up, if I'm not here he's going to be worried, so I'm staying. And since we're all here, I say we quit acting like a bunch of 2 year olds and get straight to the point. Put together you two have about 900 years on you, so you should be worldly and mature enough to reach the decision to this ultimatum."

Duncan didn't like where this was going. "What ultimatum?" he asked.

"The way I see it, you guys have two choices…you can stop squabbling like kids over who's who and what's what, and figure out a way to make both sides of this work."

"Or what?" Duncan asked.

Richelle looked him dead in the eyes and answered simply, "Or else you'll never see either one of us ever again. We're both 18," she looked at both of the men, "By law we can go anywhere and do anything we want…I have enough money, we can walk away from all this and start a new life together, and that new life doesn't have to include _either one of you_. It's your choice."

* * *

"I hate to admit it but she's right," Connor said as he and Duncan paced around the waiting room, "And you know she is."

"Yeah well I'm sure you'll understand that I'm not used to being threatened by 18 year old girls," Duncan replied.

"And I'm sure you'll understand that if you open your big fat mouth to her again, she'll make good on her word and we won't see them again, do you want that to happen?" Connor asked.

"No," Duncan answered after a brief hesitance.

"We can't force those kids to keep us in their lives, do you _want_ to continue being involved with them?" Connor asked.

"Yes," Duncan said.

"So do I," Connor replied, "So we have to figure something out."

"Alright…what?" Duncan asked.

"I think I've got it," Connor said, "We were going about this all wrong earlier…I think what we ought to do is two weeks out of the month, I'll fly Richelle down here to stay with Richie, and then two weeks of the next month, you fly him out to New York to stay with us. That way they get to stay together, and everybody's happy."

Duncan grumbled something and looked the other way.

"Well almost everybody," Connor added, "And maybe Richelle will cut you a break when she finds out that she and Richie can stay together and it won't always involve being around you. Come on, let's go give them the good news."

The two men headed back to Richie's hospital room and were surprised when they returned, to see Richie turned on his side and Richelle spooned up against him, her arms around his waist and both of them asleep.

"Looks like we're going to have to get these two a room together," Connor told his cousin.

* * *

Richie finally woke up about an hour later, and it was then that he realized that he was in the hospital.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice low and tired.

"You wiped out," Richelle told him from where she lay on the other side of the bed, "And took me down with you."

"Oh man," he grumbled as he ran a hand over his face and felt some of the bruises already forming, "Where's Mac?"

"Hell if I know," she replied, "They disappeared out of here a while ago."

Richie tried turning onto his back so he could look over and see her but he was too sore to move all the way around. "How bad is it?"

"Well the doctors said nothing's broken, so that's good," Richelle told him, "I reckon we'll be able to go home in a few days."

Richie tried to lift his legs but found that about impossible. "If I can even walk," he said, groaning under the pain, "Are they sure nothing's broken?"

"Shouldn't be, I'll have a look," Richelle said.

She pulled the sheet down and got on her stomach to get a better look at his feet. They were purple with bruising but otherwise didn't seem to be in too bad of shape. "They'll be fine," she said, then grabbed at the bottom of the paper gown they put him in, "You like wearing this thing?"

"They didn't give me a choice," he said.

"I hate these things myself," she said as climbed back up to the other side of the bed and she started to take hers off, "Would it _kill_ them to get something comfortable in?"

Richie managed to crane his neck around enough to see her slip out of her gown, dressed now only in her white bra and underwear.

"Well that's certainly attractive," Connor said as he and Duncan stepped into the room, "But you probably won't appreciate knowing your doctor is a woman."

"Oh look, Richie," she said as she turned back to her brother, "It's the Hunch Bunch again. Come again, no doubt, to try and send me back to my room down the hall."

"Not exactly," Connor told her as he walked over to the bed, "We had a little discussion with the staff and got you cleared as a resident in _this_ room, but in the _other_ bed."

Richelle grumbled in protest as she got off of Richie's bed and headed over to the one on the other side of the room.

"I know what you're doing," she said, apparently not to either man in particular.

"What?" the two MacLeods asked.

"Don't think I'm stupid," she said to Connor, "You and your blockhead cousin are just trying to lull us into a false sense of security, then once we're out of here, boom, it's going to be World War III all over again."

"How many painkillers do they have you on already?" Duncan asked her.

"Actually, Richelle," Connor told her, gesturing over towards Duncan, "Oberon over there," he couldn't help smirking at the look on Duncan's face when he said that, "And I discussed what we're going to do with the two of you." He could tell by the look on her face that she was anticipating the worst case scenario.

"And?" she asked.

"And, you were right."

"What?" Richelle started hitting her ear, "I must be going deaf."

"Cut it out," Connor told her, "You made a point, it's pretty bad when two grown men…well _past_ grown," he said as he looked over to Duncan again, "Are acting worse than the children. So we decided since what we have here is more or less a joint custody issue, we're going to treat it like one."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"We decided that…once we go home," he quickly added, "Every month, one of you is going to get to stay with the other one for a couple of weeks."

Richelle looked from him and over to Duncan and then looked back at Connor again and replied, "With you monkeys tailing along?"

"No," Connor answered, "You're right, you're both 18, you don't need us following you…after we go home, Duncan and Tessa will fly Richie out to New York to stay with us, and then the next month, I'll ship you back here to stay with them."

Richelle looked over to Richie's bed and he managed to roll over onto his side far enough to glance across the room to her as they seemed to, without a word, consider the option.

"I guess that'll work," she said as she turned back to look at Connor again.

Connor could see the reaction on Duncan's face, which was priceless to say the least. He just smiled and said, "Now that we have that settled, we're going to go home and get a change of clothes for the two of you, since," he pulled back the sheet a bit, "You seem to have your mind made up about the attire in this place…is there anything else you want me to bring you?"

"Yeah," Richelle said, "Get my Walkman."

"Of course," Connor replied.

"Oh, and bring down that book I'm reading," she said, "I'm halfway through First Blood and I just _have_ to know how Rambo dies at the end."

Richie sat up in bed and looked over at her, "He _dies_?"

She looked back at her brother and said, "Why of course…they killed him in the book, but they changed the ending in the first movie so it could coincide with the events of the second book. Oh!" she looked up at Connor again, "And Connor, can you bring us something from the house to eat?"

"What's wrong with the food here?" he asked.

"Are you _crazy_?" she asked, "Do you have any idea where they put the kitchen in this place? It's right next to the morgue," she spoke quietly as though it were an important secret, "Why would I want to eat something that's been prepared right next to the corpses? Huh?"

Connor said nothing and just chuckled and ruffled her hair in response. "Alright," he finally said, "You got it."

"Thank you," she grumbled as she rolled over onto her side and went to sleep.

Connor went back over to the door and Duncan stopped him and said quietly, "I searched through all of Richelle's belongings, that money you gave her wasn't there, and it wasn't on her when the paramedics picked her up."

Connor looked at Duncan, obviously vexed by this little discovery, and he went back over to Richelle's bed and nudged her.

"Hmm?'" she grumbled as she rolled over.

"Richelle, what happened to the money I gave you?" he asked her.

Richelle hardly even got her eyes open as she answered, "I spent it all today."

"Not that money," Connor told her, "The $5,000 I gave you, where is it?"

Richelle rubbed one eye and managed to open it as she answered, "It's back at the shop, in Richie's top drawer, why?"

"What?" Duncan asked.

"Why'd you leave it there?" Connor asked her.

"Because if something would happen and I'd die out here, I want Richie to have it," Richelle answered, "He'd need it more than I do, he can't get anywhere on his own resources or else he would've been out of this sorry town long ago. Why? What did you think I did with it?"

* * *

Richie and Richelle spent the next few days in the hospital, and despite being issued separate beds, they seldom remained separated. Connor, Tessa and Duncan agreed that the two teenagers weren't in serious enough condition to require someone watching them at all times but they did look in on them on several occasions, and every time the two were practically joined at the hip. One time Richelle was explaining to Richie the bigger picture of Rambo, other times both were vegged out on Richie's bed, each wearing an ear bud from Richelle's Walkman in one ear.

One day Tessa came in to see how they were doing and saw that both were darker shades of purple and black all over their bodies, and while Richie was more inclined to lay in bed and leave his injuries undisturbed, Richelle couldn't be forced to stay in her bed for anything.

"Did the doctor say you should be up and around already?" she asked.

"What do doctors know?" Richelle asked, "They go to medical school four years and still can't perform a breast exam without cold hands. Besides, I'm going stir crazy in this place, there's nothing to do."

"Connor mentioned that you might be getting bored," Tessa said, "I brought you some books to read."

"Sure, he's probably the one who ordered we get the only room in the hospital where the TV doesn't work," Richelle replied as she took the paperbacks from Tessa, "The man's a sadist of some sort…" she looked up at Tessa and added, "But I hear that's a turn-on for some people, I don't know, what about you?"

Tessa just laughed and told them that she'd see them both later and disappeared from the room.

"Well let's see what smut she brought down," Richelle said as she dumped the books on the nightstand by her bed.

Richie propped himself up on one elbow and glanced at the titles on the spines, "Looks like Shakespeare."

Richelle gave a throaty laugh and remarked, "Smuttier than I thought." She picked up the top book and flipped through it, "Romeo and Juliet, you ever read this crap?"

Richie shook his head, "No."

"I never read it either," Richelle sent the book flying across the room, "Now Connor was telling me something interesting about it though."

"What's that?" Richie asked.

"Connor told me that several years ago he saw this play about the Elephant Man, Joe Merrick, and he and this high class dame are discussing Romeo and Juliet. And Merrick says that Romeo is not reliable because he doesn't care about Juliet."

"What?" Richie asked, "How's that possible? He killed himself because he thought she was dead."

"Yes, he _thought_ she was dead, that's what Merrick points out. 'Does he check her pulse? Does he get a doctor?' He holds up the mirror for her breath and sees nothing. 'The illusion befalls him because he sees nothing', or something of that sort."

"Yeah but that doesn't make sense, why would he kill himself if he didn't care about her?" Richie asked.

"I don't get it either," Richelle replied, "The best I can think of is up to that point he must've _thought _he did, and then upon seeing her dead or as he thought dead, realized it had all been for nothing and decided he couldn't live with that knowledge. Like when Oedipus found out he killed his father and married his mother and had children with her, and it became too much for him and he stabbed his eyes out because he knew too much and couldn't live with it. That's my interpretation."

"Hmm," Richie said, "You do pretty well with it considering you only heard it second hand."

"Well I'll confess," she told him, "I read the play, Connor has it, it and hundreds of others, you should see this guy's home library. Library of Congress doesn't have any many books, I don't think. Now, what I've always found confusing is when there's a novel and a play of the same story, you have to read both to find out what's what, what belongs where, for the most part they're the same but they're going to be different somewhere. And that reminds me of something else."

"What?" Richie asked with a yawn.

"Did you ever read Peter Pan?" she asked him.

"No, I don't think so," he replied as he turned on his side and closed his eyes.

"There was a book and a play of that as well," she told him, "And after reading both I've concluded that that writer must've been a pretty screwy guy to come up with all that, mermaids and pirates and a man in a dog cage and fairies in negligees. But what I want to know is _why_ does Captain Hook so despise Peter Pan? Did you ever think of that, Richie? Why does Captain Hook hate Peter Pan so much? What did Peter ever do to him?"

Richie turned back over to see her and said, "Are you kidding me? He threw the guy's hand to a crocodile."

"No, not at first," Richelle said, "Something had to happen first to bring them to that fight when it happened…why does Hook hate children so much, but most of all their leader?"

"Because he's the villain of the story and it's his job," Richie said, "Every story has to have a villain."

Richelle shook her head, "No, it's not that, it's because Captain James Hook used to be a schoolteacher, and it's a known rule that all schoolteachers hate children."

"I'll believe that," Richie told her.

"Uh huh, that was certainly true for me, all my teachers hated me, every school I went to, all 12 of them," Richelle said.

"You went to 12 schools?"

"Oh sure, I got thrown out of one for biting a girl, then another for setting a fire in the principal's office, then another because I bit the teacher, and then I tried to stab a guidance counselor in the neck with his own pen, and…"

Richie laughed and threw his sore head back against the pillows, "I can't believe we're related."

"Well we must be," she told him, "We've been over all of that before, we simply have to be."

What neither teenager knew was that Tessa hadn't gone away; she had only left the room and was standing by the door listening in to their conversation. She smiled as she heard them talking; it seemed that Richie finally had a friend, and one, she noted, who it seemed wouldn't be so quick to disappear on him like the others had.

* * *

The twins came home a few days later, still bruised and sore, but above all they were relived to be out of the hospital.

"So how's this whole thing going to work?" Richie asked as they unpacked their bags back in Richie's room.

"Well, Connor was thinking of extending our stay here for a couple more weeks," Richelle said, "Then when we go back to New York, you can come back with us for a couple weeks, then we'll send you back, and next month I'll come back out here, and then the month after that, you can come and stay with us again. I know, it's confusing."

"Dizzying too," Richie said, "Sounds like a boomerang."

"Well that's how it'll be, sort of," Richelle said, "But you're going to love New York, Richie, there's so much great stuff over there, and the best part is it's 3000 miles away from Duncan. Of course there's also a downside to that."

Richie looked at her, "What's that?"

"It's _only_ 3000 miles away from Duncan," she answered.

Richie laughed and in a moment of either great love for his sister, or giddiness from the painkillers he was still on, reached over and hugged her and said, "I'm glad Connor brought you out here to meet us."

"Yeah," Richelle agreed, "Who said crime doesn't pay?"

While they talked amongst themselves in the bedroom, the three adults were gathered in the kitchen discussing something else as they made lunch.

"So when Richelle comes to stay with us in a couple of months," Tessa said, "Is there anything we'll need to know?"

"Nothing I don't think that you haven't found out already," Connor said, "She's not allergic to anything, she doesn't sleepwalk, you know she's anemic, she has a tendency to grab up small things, and she has a couple of fillings so if you find a couple small pieces of silver lying around someday…"

"We get it," Tessa said.

"She's not a particularly picky eater but she will let you know if she hates what you cook," Connor added.

"That's nothing new," Duncan replied.

"As I said, anything there is to know about you, you already know," Connor told them, "When she comes out again and I'm not here to watch her, you'll see she's not as much trouble as you think."

"Be quiet, Duncan," Tessa said just as Duncan opened his mouth.

"I didn't say anything," he replied.

"Well see to it that you don't," Connor told him.

"I'm just relieved that Richie finally has someone new in his life who it looks like, is going to stay in it," Tessa said, "It seems his other friends have scattered to the wind in the past few months."

"Well believe me, you won't be able to get rid of Richelle that easily," Connor said, "She's like the 500 pound gorilla, she not only sleeps wherever she wants but also goes and stays wherever she wants."

They heard Richie and his sister talking and saw them coming into the kitchen, they were both absorbed in their conversation.

"And when you come out to New York I'll introduce you to my friends back there," Richelle told him.

"You actually have friends?" Richie asked.

"Oh sure, they'll like you, of course you have to be initiated first," she said.

"Sounds painful," Richie said as they sat down at the table with the others.

"Not at all, first there's the big celebratory dinner, and afterwards they all pick up their knives and forks and start chanting 'gooble gobble, gooble gobble, we accept him, we accept him, gooble gobble, we will make you one of us'."

This drew responsive fits of laughter from Connor, Tessa, and even Duncan, who all picked up their utensils and joined in.


End file.
